


How To Fight A Shadow

by Gold_Kobold



Category: 3Below, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Don't Judge Me, Kind of a slow burn, Other, SO, Slow Burn, also weird obscure ship time, and stricklake of course, but mostly weird obscure shipping, implied guntatious too, jlaire too, maybe some creepslayerz, q has informed me that it might be worth noting, that this is, there's a story i swear, welcome to father issues: the novel, will probably add more tags as things become more relevant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-06-11 11:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 62,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15314055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gold_Kobold/pseuds/Gold_Kobold
Summary: Trouble stirs when the infamous Morgana, despite her imprisonment, starts finding ways to influence the surface world, most notably returning a certain assassin to a certain Arcadia. The Trollhunters must find a way to stop her for good before somebody gets hurt... or worse.





	1. Third Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

> **Being brought back to life a third time had only one advantage in Angor Rot's mind: "Now I have another chance to punch Morgana in the face."**

Death.

Only in death could I find peace. For only in death is my mind at rest. My body. My… soul.

What I once thought I should fear, I now revere. This numb, serene blackness I now regard as a blessing. For only in death am I my own.

But no peace can ever last for me.

No blessing ever stays with me.

I can only be my own for so long.

For I am not the fortunate kind.

 

Life.

I could feel the life seep back into my veins, turning to flesh what was once stone.

No…. twice stone.

For this is a third life.

The third time I must bear the burden of living blood flowing through my veins.

No troll could say they have been brought back from the dead twice.

No troll except for me.

 

_“Again you shall rise and set me free.”_

 

Angor Rot awoke, a sharp breath rushing through his lungs.

He awoke to a blackness. Not one like death, but one like a cage. One he knew.

This is the Shadow Realm. And with the Skathe-Hrün destroyed, there is no way out.

Angor remembered it all. How he ended up here. He could almost feel the Eclipse Blade still piercing his skin and bone, his flesh slowly turning to stone in the final moments of war, falling back into this realm he once utilized…. a necessary sacrifice for the defeat of Morgana.

The defeat of his captor.

He was all to willing to give his life for one final moment of the hero he used to be.

The hero that was destroyed with the loss of his soul.

The hero he could reclaim as his own, just like his soul. In his final moments…

But  _why_ …

**_Why was he awake._ **

“My champion…..”

That voice.

“Together, we will return.”

Those hands, touching his body.  _Caressing_ him.

“Together… We will show those fools they cannot be rid of their Eldritch Queen so easily.”

That breath, whispering in his ear.

It was  _Her_.

Whatever She had to say next, Angor didn’t care. He broke from Her grip, baring kill-hungering fangs at the only source of light in this abyss of darkness, one question in his mind overpowering all the rest.  ** _“What have you done?”_**

“What does it look like, my champion? I have brought you back to me once more.” She spoke as though She had done him a  _favour_. “No one can take you away from me. Not even you.”

Instant rage. It overtook Angor with the intensity of many suns. His blade a hungry tongue crawled out of its sheath, glowing Creeper’s Sun ready to salivate death into the veins of its next victim. But the troll, he whom had just been dead only moments earlier, he had no hope of matching the sorceress like this.

That much was made clear by the blast of raw energy She flicked at him, an effortless endeavor to cast Her possession aside. She threw him like it was nothing.

Just because She’s trapped doesn’t mean She doesn’t still have Her magic.

He can’t fight like this.

Why is this happening?

_Why has she brought him back?_

**_“Why?!”_ **

“I need you.”

 **“You have no need for me!”**  Angor’s dark voice cut through the shadows like his knife through flesh, bleeding with fury.  **“You are trapped here as I am, forever and always! What _possible_ need could you have for me anymore?!”**

His rage was met with a cruel giggle. One suiting that of a deranged sorceress.

Why, indeed? Was it just to make him suffer? Never let him have the one feeling of peace he yearns for? Was it to exercise Her magic, see if She could still perform something so bold as resurrection? Has She done this merely to use him as  _entertainment_ while they waste away in shadows?

“You are wrong, Angor Rot.” Spoke Her soft voice. “We are not stuck here.”

Yeah… Rot wasn’t buying it. **“The Skathe-Hrün is _gone_.”**  He insisted.  **“ _You have no escape._ ”**

“ _I **created** the Skathe-Hrün. I was the  **first**  to have mastered this realm.  **This is MY domain, and I͏̘͎ ͚͓͖̮̥͘w̜̝i͔̺͔̗ll ̨̱͙no̟̰̘͇̝ͅt̡̟̼̗̺̦ͅ b͕̙̙͓̗͉ͅe̮̲̮ ̵̲̻̟̼̰͔̣t̛r҉̝͉̘͔̤ͅap̯̤p҉̲̲͓̯̯̬e̹̫̟̕d͏͈͖̠ ̝̝͕h̞̘̘͚̞͈͠e͔͔͕̭r̲e͎̹͙ .**_ ” The witch’s angry voice boomed, before lowering back down to a soft coo. “Just wait, my champion. You will see.”

No. He doesn’t  _want_ to see whatever sort of treachery She had planned. He’s had enough of being Her  _puppet_.

Grim as the situation seemed, Angor would stand his ground. Wisps of purple magic lingered at his fingers, his lone eye scanning the Pale Lady for weak spots and motion cues, anything to give him an edge.

“I’ve been working tirelessly, my champion.”

God, how Her voice annoyed him. 

“I made a way in and out of here before. I can do it again… and I think I have.”

Shut up already.

“Do they really think I spent all those years of preparation only to be  _trapped here of all places?_  They must be mad if they think this temporary cage can stop me!”

Idling posture. She’s getting comfortable in her monologue.

One clear shot.

Magic burst from Angor Rot’s claws, a screeching fireball locked onto its target with no falter. 

But Morgana seemed to have been watching him just as closely.

Her movements were smoother than Angor could have expected, Her leaning out of the way of the blast just enough to only get grazed. As the violet flames ripped by the side of Her face, they tore off a piece of mask with it. Though, not even a moment’s time passed before shadows manifested a physical form to replace it, like they had a mind of their own.

In one last ditch effort to land some kind of damage against Her, Angor Rot lunged forward, knife in hand aimed at Her throat, but the sorceress reacted too quickly, ensnaring him in golden chains moments before he reached Her.

“Do you see how this place bends to my very  _will_ , Angor?” She softly cooed, leaning in close to display Her new chunk of helm. “The Skathe-Hrün may no longer be accessible to us… only a minor inconvenience. It just means I’ve had to work some… ‘new angles’.”

As much as Angor wanted to make some other snappy remark at this witch, he didn’t have the time to as he was engulfed in a strange gold light, completely blinding him. Tingling sensations crept through the cracks in his body, a harsh ringing pounding through his ears, intertwined with Morgana’s hellish voice, singing songs of victory in their future. When the light faded away, everything was black.

It was like he lost contact with all of his senses. Couldn’t even move. It was almost like another death.

But this was not death.

What felt like hours, or maybe even days, dragged by Angor Rot slowly, but even his sense of time felt jumbled.

Finally something happened.

He could start to feel his senses slowly return.

 

He could hear birds.


	2. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **With Angor Rot’s unexpected reemergence from the Shadow Realm and Arcadia’s Heartstone mysteriously starting to regain its light , Toby calls in the best reinforcements he knows for the case.**

Arcadia’s Heartstone is dead. Drained of its magic by Gunmar. He had completely destroyed the one thing that had sustained so much troll life in Arcadia.

Or so we thought. Because Arcadia’s Heartstone  _was_ dead.

Was.

We thought it would be gone forever, but now it’s like… a weird  _zombie_ Heartstone or something. Which is a good thing, right? Well, as Dictatious always used to say, ‘even the word hopeless isn’t void of hope’. Well, he  _apparently_ used to say that, but Toby still had a hard time believing it. Seriously, what  _happened_ to that dude– Oh oh, wait, internal monologue getting sidetracked– Where was he…

Oh yeah. Calling Jim.

Toby was only down there by chance when the stone had started giving off faint, pulsing glows. He wouldn’t have even noticed it had Aaarrrgghh not pointed it out to him. Naturally, Toby was a mix of ecstatic and freaked right out.

Does this mean Arcadia could sustain the lives of many trolls again? Who knows. But Jim was  _definitely_ the first to hear about it. He told Toby that he’d talk with Blinky about coming down to check it out. Honestly, even if this just turned out to be nothing, just visiting would be nice too. It’s been some months since they arrived at New Jersey, but Jim would be lying if he said he didn’t miss his friends already. Claire probably thought the same thing.

So, naturally, it was decided that coming down to check things out wouldn’t be a bad idea.

 

“You guys’ll  _love_ Arcadia’s new look!” Toby raved, excitement of seeing his friends again ringing clearer than a bell through the phone, “A  _lot_ of work’s been done to make the streets troll-friendly! They’re not finished yet, but there are these super sturdy awnings being put up all over town so that they can walk around in the day! Oh, and would you believe that  _NotEnrique_ of all people got a program together for Changelings to start teaching people how to speak troll? Things are  _awesome_ here!” Chest puffed out with pride, he added, “ _And_ me and my wingman have been keeping everyone safe while you’re gone, of course!” He always made it a point to mention that, even if the only “threats” to really speak of would be the stray goblin or two lingering about. “I gotta admit, I kinda forgot what it feels like to  _not_ have psycho killers or crazy magic happenings around every corner. Hey, maybe this Heartstone thing is going to be the start of something huge and exciting!”

“Careful what you wish for, Tobes.” Toby could hear Jim laugh from the other side of the line. He was excited too. “Well, sounds like you guys have been making a lot of progress!” He said, enthusiastic. “Can’t wait to be there! We–” Jim’s voice cut out for a second, the half-troll having paused to respond to someone who had spoken to him, words Toby couldn’t make out. When his voice returned, it was a little disappointed, but no less excited. “Sorry Toby, I’ve got to go help Blinky and Claire out with some of our things. We’ll see you in a few days, okay? And tell Aaarrrgghh and everyone we say hi!”

“You bet! Don’t keep us waiting too long, Jimbo!”

With that, the call was ended. Toby turned to Aaarrrgghh, doing a double thumbs up and grinning wider than the ocean. “They’ll be here soon!! And Jim says hi!”

“Hi Jim!” Aaarrrgghh said right back.

“Well, he can’t hear us  _now_ , we hung up.” He explained to his wingman, enthusiasm still not wavering and nudging Aaarrrgghh playfully when the troll had made a small disappointed noise after learning that. “But save that big hello for when they get here, huh?”

The two of them started on their way out of the unkempt mess that was Trollmarket. Nobody had gotten the time to fix it up yet, nor had anybody really thought it was necessary… but Toby and Aaarrrgghh would sometimes swing by for old time’s sake. There was something…. nostalgic about being here. And it was a good thing they decided to come down today, considering.

“Heartstone?” Aaarrrgghh asked, glancing back at the hunk of barely-living mineral before it escaped from their line of sight.

“Yeah, Jim said he asked Blinky about it, but he doesn’t know what could be causing this either… but hey! All the more reason for them to come and take a closer look, right?” Toby grinned wider.

“Hmm…” Aaarrrgghh had to admit, there was the faintest trace of worry lingering within him. There’s never been a case of Heartstone coming back to life (that he knew of), so what could this mean? But, well…. Toby’s cheery attitude  _was_ pretty contagious. The troll smiled back. “Right.”

“That’s the spirit!” Like he had wings for feet, Toby used the Horngazel in one swoop to open up the entrance and hopped outside, pumping his fists in the air with a cheer. “Wooo!  _Nothing_ could ruin this for me!”

Aah, but what poor Toby  _didn’t_ realize, is that you should  _never_ say such a thing when you’re in the business of being a main character.

  
  


“Okay! Today’s the day!”

Toby had placed himself on top of his nana’s sofa, looking over everyone in the room with a dutiful stare. “Let’s go over everyone’s duties, shall we?~” He made a flashy display of his warhammer, pointing it at Aaarrrgghh first. “My dear wingman, what are  _you_ going to do when they arrive?”

“Big hug!” Aaarrrgghh proclaimed, a giant friendly grin on his face.

“Only the biggest ever from our welcome committee! And how about you, Nana?”

“I’m going to have  _delicious_ cookies ready for the pickings.” Nana said, her voice sweeter than the dough she was working on. “They must be hungry after that long trip.”

“Correctamundo!” Toby cheered, twirling around to address the last person present, his mood being… less enthused for the moment of interaction that was to come. “Annnd… Dictatious.”

“Hmm?” Dictatious glanced in the voice’s general direction, not particularly interested as he’d been preoccupied with some crime show on TV. “Was I supposed to  _do_ something?”

In a true teenager fashion, Toby rolled his eyes and loudly sighed. “ _Never mind,_  just don’t be a  _buttsnack_.”

But, optimism quick to return, Toby hopped down and went to the side of his wingman. “Well, I wish I could take you with me to meet 'em, buddy, but they don’t have any covers at the bus stop yet.”

“Blinky?” Aaarrrgghh asked in concern.

“Don’t worry! They made sure to deck him out with  _lots_ of umbrellas and stuff.” He gave the big troll a light tap, then headed for the door. “Hold down the fort! We should be back in 10!” He turned to face them one last time and give an excited double thumbs up before bouncing outside.

It was a beautiful day! Maybe too sunny for a troll’s taste, but any day is beautiful when you get to see your friends again! The bounce in Toby’s step basically had him gliding with the floatiness of his hammer alongside him. He’d be at the bus stop in no ti–

CRASH!

Many curses were uttered as Toby and Steve hit the ground - after having smacked into each other, obviously.

“Steve, what the heck!” Toby barked, pulling himself up off the ground, “You should  _know_ I’m in a hurry here-”

“Shutupshutupshut _up!_ ” Steve quickly followed Toby up, a very clear purpose for his rush clear in his voice and eyes. “There is a  _crazy_ weird-looking troll guy in the woods!”

“Wait…” Toby squinted in confusion. “What?”

“Eli only told me today, but he mentioned seeing a weird light in the forest a few nights ago. I went to check it out because I remembered that spot being where  _you guys-_ ” Steve pointed a finger at Toby, face looking less than impressed. “-were doing weird dark magic portal stuff with all those boxes.” Squinting, he added just out of the smallest bit of bitterness, “ _And_ messed with my  _phone_.”

“Guilty as charged?” Toby chuckled, awkwardly shrugging. But by now they’ve let bygones be bygones about that stuff. It’s important they get back to business. “But this  _troll_ you saw, what were they doing out there?”

“Well…  _nothing_. The guy was out cold.” Steve admitted with a shrug of his own. “Last I saw him, anyway. I was going to try n’ move him to a shadier spot, but he made a couple noises like he might wake up, so I figured it would be, uhhhh….  _safer_ to get a second party, haha.” Yeah, safer. Not intimidated by the giant killer-looking troll at all. Nope.

“Wellllll….” Toby really did want to meet with Jim, Blinky, and Claire as soon as possible, but… what kind of responsible Trollhunter would he be if he left some troll in danger of getting sunned to death in the forest? Let alone leave one of his classmates alone to deal with it? Normally he’d tell Steve to find someone else to help, but what if there’s a fight? And Toby  _does_ have his weapon handy… Sighing in disappointment, Toby conceded to his rationality. “Okay, fiiine. But I gotta call Jim and let him know I’ll be late meeting him.” He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. “So what’d this troll look like? What should I be keeping an eye out for?”

“Here, I got a picture.”

Toby glanced up from his screen to look at Steve’s, then back down to his own. “Oh, Angor Rot. Cool, cool.”

……. Wait.

_WAIT._

Yanking the phone from Steve’s hands, Toby pressed his face so close to the phone that he might as well have swallowed it.

That’s Angor Rot, alright. It was a blurry photo, but who could mistake  _that_ for any other troll?

“Oi. Dumbzalski.” Steve wanted greatly to snatch his phone back, but he was mostly just too confused at this point to bother. “What’re you going on about.

It took Toby a second to realize that he was making sounds similar to that of a dying seal in his shock. Coming back to his senses, he shoved the phone back at Steve and ran off - wait, why run when you have a magic flying warhammer - scratch that,  _flew_ off shouting, "CALL JIM AND TELL HIM TO MEET ME IN THE WOODS!”

“Hey!” Steve shouted back, feeling gypped out of an explanation. “Is this a good or bad thing?!”

“I DON’T KNOW! I’M HAVING VERY MIXED FEELINGS ON THE MATTER!”

Chances are, this was a  _very_ bad thing. Even if Angor Rot’s still on their side, it being great that he’s somehow alive (if that’s the case),  _how did he get out of the Shadow Realm?_

  
  


“Ahh, home sweet home!”

Jim bounded off the bus with incredible enthusiasm, more than ready to see every inch of Arcadia again. He stretched his arms and legs, stiff from the bus, then turned around as he heard Claire step off, adjusting the position of the sheathed weapon over her back.

“It really is nice to be back,” She had to agree, smiling. New Jersey was nice, but it wasn’t home. Plus, she could see her brother and parents! As well as her friends, of course. “I just wish it was under different circumstances, but…”

“Hey! Maybe this is a  _good_ thing!” Jim suggested, taking his girlfriend’s hand. “Who knows? Maybe, with time, the Heartstone here will be able to take care of Trollmarket again.”

“Ever the optimist.” Pecking Jim on the cheek, her eyes did have a sparkle of hope, even if she had her doubts. “That  _would_ be nice.”

“You know what would  _really_ be nice?” Blinky piped up from the vehicle, dragging along suitcases, “Help with this luggage!”

The couple looked to the door, quickly going over to assist. “Sorry, Blinky!” Jim said, taking some of the bags from him. “Just excited to get going, you know?”

The troll chuckled. “Your enthusiasm is infectious, Master Jim!” His load now lifted, Blinky now could put all his focus into trying to get out the door. The contraption attached to him to protect him from the sun - basically a bouquet of umbrellas - made it almost impossible. “Agh, blasted thing-! Who thought it was a good idea to strap all these spares on the back?”

“That 'blasted thing’ is going to keep you from turning to stone, Blinky.” Claire smirked, moving to help him him out the door. “Can’t all have magic walk-in-daylight Vendel stones to put in magical amulets.”

“Ah, yes, well, Master Jim is just lucky that   _I_  suggested Tobias mail it to him!” Blinky pointed out, but clearly in a playful manner.

“Oh thank you, great and wise Blinkous, where would I be without you and the miraculous services of the post office?” Jim added a dramatic knightly bow to the statement, and all three of them cracked up.

“Turned to stone twenty times over, I bet! – _Ah!_  Finally!” Much to their patient bus driver’s relief, Blinky at last got through those doors without breaking anything. With said vehicle now driving off into the distance, the Trollhunter trio could now give all of their attention to their hometown.

“Say…” Blinky spoke up again, looking around with his plenitude of eyes. “Was Tobias not supposed to meet us here by now?”

“Yeah, he’s usually pretty punctual…” And from the sounds of him over the phone, he sounded incredibly excited to see them, so Jim couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t be here.

“Well, it’s not like we don’t know our way around! Let’s just head to his house and maybe we’ll bump into him on the way?” Claire suggested, to which the others agreed. They didn’t get very far, though, before Jim’s phone went off.

Weird that  _Steve’s_ calling…. At this point, Jim was starting to think something’s up…

He answered the phone.

“Hey, Steve. What’s going on?”

Since Claire and Blinky couldn’t hear the voice through Jim’s phone, they were stuck going off facial expressions. And oh, boy…. what a ride that was. Jim’s face went from neutral, to confused, to complete shock in the span of about three seconds.

Jim cursed under his breath, at least giving Steve a quick thanks before hanging up in a rush and then turning to his friends in a discomposed state. “It’s Angor Rot!”

  
  


Luckily, Toby found what he was looking for. Whether that was good luck or bad luck was still up in the air.

Leaves dappled in the wind without a care in the world. Soft sunlight shimmering through tree branches, not enough so to completely break through the shade, but enough to make it dangerous for a troll.

Even for  _this_ troll. Who shouldn’t even  _be_ here, might Toby add…

But here he was, clear as day. Angor Rot lay before Toby, completely unconscious, but… completely alive and intact.  _And_ out of the Shadow Realm. Did Toby mention he’s out of the Shadow Realm? Because he is, and that could be a BIG no-no.

All things considered, it was fair enough that Toby felt the need to keep his warhammer pointed at this former enemy. It felt like literally anything could happen right now, and good ol’ Domzalski here didn’t fancy being on the receiving end of some kind of super assassin sucker punch to the face. He must’ve jumped ten feet in the air when his phone started to ring. Toby blindly fumbled for it with his one free hand because he didn’t want to take eyes off of Angor for even a  _millisecond_.

“Heyyy Jimbooo….” Toby awkwardly greeted after seeing the caller ID, “Got a bit of a situation…”  
  


“I heard. Steve caught me up.” Blinky, Claire and Jim were all moving as fast as they could, making their way to Toby. “Are you okay?”  
  


“Never better, never better! You know me, always down to hang with half-conscious super-magical morally-grey serial killers, you know how it is.” Toby laughed back nervously.  
  


“Just hang in there, we’ll be there soon.”   
  


The red-haired one’s voice got higher with nervousness. “Uhhh better make that fast, because I  _thiiink_ he might be waking up.”  
  


“What?!” Even if Jim  _wanted_ to trust Angor Rot, he couldn’t trust the unpredictability of him. “Did you at least  _restrain_ him or something?”  
  


“Uuuuhhhhhh…”  
  


“ _Toby!_ ” In frustration and worry he snapped his phone shut, turning his head to look to Blinky and Claire. “I’m going on ahead! Get there as soon as you can!”

It’s just as well. Jim was quicker and more agile, he could get there faster. As soon as he saw the nod of affirmation from Claire that they understood, and some sort of wheezy gasp from Blinky that was probably in agreement, the Trollhunter bounded into the trees, leaping from branch to branch.

He prayed he’d find Toby in one piece.  _Both_ of them in one piece, preferably.

Bursting into the clearing with about all the grace of a lead slinky, Jim drew his sword just in case of a fight, eyes speedily scouring the clearing for the first sign of trouble….

But, what he saw instead…

His best friend, unmoving, warhammer in hand to retaliate against any sort of threat… and one glowing, golden eye, completely still in the shadows of one tall tower of an oak tree. Very still, until it saw Jim. It was the subtlest of movements, yet somehow so overt, how Angor’s gaze locked onto Jim. The quiescent troll spoke in a low, neutral rumble.

**“Trollhunter.”**

Jim’s grip on his sword tightened… then loosened.

He doesn’t seem hostile. Right now, at least…. but something else about him also seemed off. To Jim, it was almost like Angor put off the vibe of a lost… well, he definitely wouldn’t say “child”, but….

Jim put away his sword, the gesture bringing a trace of incredulity to the look in that golden eye. “Angor Rot.” Jim greeted back, his confusion about the whole situation still pretty obvious. “It’s a… surprise to see you?”

What neither Jim nor Toby were expecting was that dark, hollow laugh he responded with.  **“The feeling is mutual.”**  The eye laid on Jim looked to Toby, then back to Jim.  **“Your ally is smart to keep his weapon drawn. Why have you done away with yours?”**

“…. Hey, Tobes….” Jim looked to his friend. “Put that away, would you?”

“Uhhhh, but…! Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Toby squeaked back. “I mean come on Jimbo, he just said I’m smart to have it out! Doesn’t sound very peaceful of him!”

“Trust me,” was all Jim replied with, taking a step towards Angor.

Even if he wasn’t here peacefully, it didn’t matter much. They have the upper hand no matter which way this is spun: Angor can’t really do much without risking getting in sunlight, it’s two against one and with more reinforcements coming, and the troll assassin really seems to be out of sorts after who-knows-what happened to him… but even none of that mattered. Because Jim was pretty willing to bet that there wasn’t going to be a fight at all.

Angor looked even more surprised for a second, maybe even a little suspicious, especially when Toby obliged to Jim’s request. His eye narrowed, but Jim spoke before he could.

“What happened to you?” The next thing he asked was even more surprising. “Are you okay?”

'Are you okay’. What kind of a question is that. He’s supposed to be  _dead_. He  _was_ dead. He was in the  _Shadow Realm_ , and now he’s  _here_ , he doesn’t know  _why_ , he hardly knows  _how_. What defines  _okay_ in this situation?

Jim was at least perceptive enough to take the silence as an 'I don’t know’. He stepped closer, almost under the shade of the tree, despite Toby’s worried noises and Angor’s eye narrowing. The troll looked a little skeptical.  

Jim tried again to get something out of him. “Did you-”

“I HAVE DWARKSTONES AND I’M NOT AFRAID TO USE THEM!!!”

Interrupted by that shout, Jim whipped around to see none other than Blinkous Galadrigal barging through the trees, wielding active Dwarkstones in each hand. A peeved Claire was quick to follow, black-bladed Naginata drawn from the sheath on her back. “Blinky! I thought we agreed on  _not blowing people up!_ ”

“Too late!” Blinky raised one of the stones as if to give it a haphazard throw, but Jim moving to block him from a clear shot of Angor Rot got him to halt.

“Blinky!” Jim scolded. “Get rid of those!”

“Errrr…” So when Blinky said 'too late’, he meant that they were already on their way to exploding, so uuuhhh….

He chucked all the stones in some random direction. The Trollhunters all shielded their eyes from the boom, as Angor just watched in mild disbelief as there was now a crater in the forest floor and first of all, why does the blue one have so many Dwarkstones, and second of all, what a waste of Dwarkstones, and  _third_ of all, he kind of wishes he could be dead again instead of dealing with any of this today.

Claire, while definitely not on board with getting covered in exploded troll remains (and also murder) again, she was still cautious, keeping her drawn weapon pointed in Angor’s direction as she went over to Toby. “What have you guys found out?”

“Not much?” Toby wished he could offer more of an explanation, but he just couldn’t. “The guy’s barely  _spoken_.”

“And what about it?” Blinky spoke up next. “Who says he can even be _trusted?_  Look at him! Last time we saw him he was dead and in the Shadow Realm!”

“ _Guys_ …” Jim moved from his spot near Angor Rot to get closer to his friends, lowering his voice. “I don’t think treating him like we’re going to blow him up at a moment’s notice is the right approach.”

“I understand, Master Jim, but we can’t just  _forget_ everything he’s done!”

“Blinky does have a point…” Toby had to agree.

It was a fair reaction. They had every right to be wary of him, especially with what happened to Aaarrrgghh, but…

“We  _also_ can’t forget that he literally  _died_ helping us.” Jim pointed out back at them. “Losing his soul  _seriously_ messed him up, we can agree on that, right? But he has it  _back_ , and when he went out, it was on  _our_ side. I’d like to  _keep_ him on our side, wouldn’t you?”

They all traded looks of uncertainty, yet understanding.  _Tactically_ speaking, that would probably be a good idea. Nobody could deny that there were benefits here that could be reaped.

“But the question still remains, how did he  _get_ here?” Claire asked out loud.

Deep down, she knew what the answer had to be. They all did. But nobody wanted to admit it.

“This had to be Morgana."Jim finally said. Everybody fell silent at that. "Nobody wants to say it, but there’s  _no_ other possible answer.” 

It was like a tornado of dread just hit them all out of nowhere. The silence that overtook them was so grim….

Nobody wanted to admit it. But they  _had_ to.

Claire, after a deep breath that broke the silence, was the next to speak. “But why now?” She cast a side glance at Angor, whom had taken to chipping away at some fallen piece of bark with his knife, then looked back to the group. “Why  _this?_ ”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to find out-”

 **“If it is answers you are looking for…”** Angor’s voice interrupted Jim’s, startling them - they thought they were talking quietly enough so their words wouldn’t be made out, but apparently not.  **“….** **you will not get them from me.”**

The Trollhunters turned to look at Angor, who had not looked up from his carving.  **“I haven’t any idea what the Pale Lady is planning, nor do I know how or why She brought me back.”**  His steely gold eye then focused on the Trollhunters.  **“This time, I’m just as in the dark as you are.”**

Oh… Can’t really say he’s  _surprised_ , but Jim still found that a little discouraging….

There must have been a shift in the clouds, because more light started drifting into their clearing with almost no warning. Jim looked first to Blinky out of concern, mostly out of habit, but he was fine since they sun-proofed him. His attention quickly shifted to Angor.

The assassin hardly even glanced at how the edge of his shade was decreasing before going back to his carving all nonchalant as if that  _wasn’t_ cause for alarm. And maybe it wasn’t, considering there was still enough for him, but…

“… Hey Blinky, can I borrow one of your spare umbrellas?”

“… Well… I suppose….” With care, Blinky reached back and pulled one of the closed spares off his ensemble. When Jim walked over to get it, Blinky hesitated in giving it to him. With concern flooding his eyes, he stared at his student. “Master Jim, are you  _sure_ about this? He’s hurt so many of us,  _tormented_ you…”

“Look, I’m not saying I trust him.” Jim extended his hand. “But I think he’s worth at least giving a second chance.”

To that, Blinky took a minute to think, mulling it over… but, he did end up placing the umbrella in Jim’s hand. Jim smiled, grateful for the trust. Then he headed back to Angor.

That deep-aurous eye glanced at Jim with the same lack of concern as it did to the faltering shade earlier. He said nothing, knowing that if the Trollhunter had something to say, he’d say it.

Jim said nothing, though. He just held out the umbrella, an offering.

Angor stared at it blankly.

“…. Oh!” Of course, stupid, he’d have to open it first… In a few quick seconds, Jim had the umbrella popped open, and held it out again.

The realization hit Angor. But he continued just staring, not making any moves for the thing.

Jim was starting to feel a little awkward in this situation.

“You’re supposed to stand under it!” Toby called over, as if the thousands-of-thousands years-old troll couldn’t figure that out.

 **“… You’re taking quite a gamble, Trollhunter.”**  Angor finally spoke,that voice of his low and bemused.

“Well, hey.” Jim shrugged, smiling casually at him. “Call me Albert Lamorisse, because I do have a tendency to take risks.”

**“….. I don’t know who that is.”**

“Ah. Right.” Stepping a little closer, Jim held the umbrella out further. “So you want this or not?” He asked. “Beats standing under a tree all day.”

“Master Jim…” Blinky quavered, only worrying more the closer Jim got.

Jim sighed. He turned to the others, standing tall despite the heavy seriousness that overtook his voice. “Look. If we’ll be dealing with more of  _Her_ , we are going to  _need_ Angor Rot.” He turned to face Angor again. “ _If_ you’re willing to. You want to forget about Morgana and just go your own way, I’d understand. I’ll give this to you either way.” He extended the umbrella out to Angor. “But we’d be grateful to have you.”

He hardly noticed, but he had walked right into the shade with Angor. Or, if he did notice, he didn’t seem to care.

Angor actually seemed like Jim caught him off-guard. He looked… surprised? Confused? …. Relieved?

'If you’re  _willing_ to’.

That was what threw him off. He’d been so used to being used again and again over thousands of years… but now, he’s being given a  _choice_.

Just like he had a choice at the Eternal Night. All because of this peculiar little Trollhunter.

A choice to be like he used to be again, even if he’s forgotten so much of who that was.

Angor Rot put down his carving, and accepted the umbrella from Jim. The two shared a look of understanding, and Jim smiled again. “Thank you.” He said quietly, sincerely. The both of them stepped out from beneath the tree, and Claire was the next to get closer, feeling a little more at ease now. About Angor, at least…

“So there’s nothing you can tell us about Morgana…?” She asked.

 **“Only that She’s grown stronger,”** was Angor’s grim answer.  **“She revived me from the dead, and brought me here. For what reasons, I do not know, but the fact that She is capable of such things while trapped in such a place speaks volumes.”**

Just the kind of thing nobody wanted to hear.

There’s no way in which this ends well, is there?

  
  


Hardly anyone spoke a word on the walk back to town. There was so much that  _could_ be said, but what  _should_ be said? If anything at all?

This was so tense… so much to take  _in_ ….

Today wasn’t supposed to be like this. Magical duties aside, today was supposed to at  _least_ have their reuniting be a happy event. But instead, they’re stuck with this train wreck of a doomsday time bomb, with no idea when it’s going to go off.

Toby will be  _damned_ if he lets today continue going so terribly. The future might all go to shit, but he’s going to enjoy seeing his friends again no matter what that stupid witch lady does.

“Hey!” He piped up suddenly, getting everyone’s attention. “My nana made the best cookies ever and they’re probably going cold! And Aaarrrgghh’s been expecting us for like an hour now!”

He half expected that attempt at uplifting the mood up to fail, considering everything, but his friends’s faces lit up like fireflies when they heard Aaarrrgghh’s name, and who doesn’t like cookies? They knew Toby was trying to cheer everyone up, and they were all for it.

“That sounds great, Tobes!” Jim beamed, ready for a well-deserved break.

“I hope you have some dirty socks for these cookie-unappreciative guys, though!” Claire teased, playfully ribbing both Jim and Blinky.

“Oh, you  _know_ I do!” Toby grinned, shooting finger guns at them all.

Angor watched quietly as they all laughed with each other, making plans to meet up at the red-haired-one’s dwellings, it seems. Looking around, the troll took a second to refamiliarize himself with these surroundings, then started to head off to where he remembered the closest entrance to the sewers was.

“Hey! Where you going?” Toby called after him, stopping him in his tracks. “My house is the other way!”

 **“I….”**  Angor’s head tilted to the side, confused.  **“Should I not be finding somewhere else to bide for now? Something tells me my presence wouldn’t be so… readily accepted.”**

“Heeeck no, dude, you’re coming with us.” Insisted Toby, gesturing for him to come back. With a small smirk, he added, “After all, 'should we not’ be keeping our eyes on you for now?”

…. Well, that’s a fair statement.

The troll shrugged slightly, then went back to following the others.

**“Though, I do have a question.”**

“Shoot.” Toby said, ready to answer.

**“What exactly are 'cookies’?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Any and all comments are appreciated!**


	3. Levels of Salt Reaching Dangerous Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Jim places an unexpectedly high amount of trust in two former enemies. His father figures don’t like this much. Dictatious and Angor might have preferred different arrangements as well, but maybe this isn’t the best time to complain about it, since magical irregularities keep popping up all around Arcadia with seemingly no explanation.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally split this chapter into three because it was so freaking long, curse me and my inability to judge appropriate chapter lengths

They’d been waiting quite some time. Much longer than ten minutes, anyway. It was perfectly understandable that they’d be getting worried. (Aaarrrgghh and Nana at least, Dictatious couldn’t care less.)

Aaarrrgghh wanted to go look for them, but there was only so many places he could go with the limited amount of shade available. And what if they just come back while he’s out?

A little longer. He’d wait a  _little_ longer and hope nothing’s gone wrong.

“Don’t worry, Arthur,” Nana tried to reassure the obviously anxious troll, “I’m sure they’ll be along any minute.”

Bless her soul, the woman. She may still get his name wrong, but her heart’s in the right place. Aaarrrgghh acknowledged her reassurance with a quiet hum, but was still unable to shake the lingering feeling of worry.

“I wait outside.” Aaarrrgghh finally said, getting tired of pacing idly.

So he did. He waited just outside the door, beneath the shade of the building’s overhang.

He  _waited_ , but what he  _really_ wanted to do was go looking around.

But he really should stay. And it’s a good thing he did, because they didn’t leave him waiting much longer.

Off down the street, Aaarrrgghh could see them, and he felt immediate relief and joy. Then… confusion. Because he could see one more person than there should be. Is… is that….?

How quickly one’s joy could turn into alarm was not yet known by Aaarrrgghh until that moment of realization.

It  _was_ Angor Rot.

“Don’t freak out!” was the first thing to come out of Toby’s mouth when he saw the look on their friend’s face. “We can explain!”

 

Well… They can  _somewhat_ explain. They did their best with what limited information they had. Aaarrrgghh took the explanation at face value - he trusted his friends’s judgment. For somebody who literally was murdered by Angor Rot, he was surprisingly quick to accept the situation.

Surprising to Angor, at least. Everyone else seems used to this sort of thing. How can you  _not_ be with so many enemies-turned-friends?

Angor would simply have to adjust.

That would probably take… ehh…  _quite_ a while.

For now, he’d much prefer standing by the door in the background while these friends caught up with each other at the table. The Trollhunter and his mate seemed to be catching up the others on their findings in a place they referred to as ‘New Jersey’. Between wondering what must have happened to Old Jersey and picking away at a golem statue nobody noticed him start carving, Angor was at least able to observe this group’s relationship with each other up-close, and learn some information on top of that. Was any of this information  _useful?_  Well, you never know when you might need to know Aaarrgghh’s newest high score in Go-Go Sushi.

….. On the other hand, maybe he just had no idea what they were talking about. Another thing that he will definitely have to adjust to.

“You haven’t touched any of the cookies, dear!”

Angor turned his head when he realized it was him who was being spoken to. Why was the elder human speaking to him? **“…. What?”**

Nana Domzalski, a woman with no fear, was suddenly right beside him with a tray of cookies. “You must be starving! Don’t be shy!”

SHY. Is she  _serious?_

 **“I do not eat…. those.”** Angor Rot replied, with a pointed gaze to the tray. Judging from what Toby told him, these ‘cookies’ sound absolutely revolting.

“He’s a troll, nan!” Toby called over. With her poor eyesight, she probably didn’t even notice. “You know they don’t usually eat that stuff.”

You’d think that would be the end of it, but oh no, now this human was on a mission of nutrition. She knew NotEnrique liked socks, Jim liked kitchen utensils, trolls like the  _strangest_ things, so wouldn’t you know it, now she was brainstorming just the strangest things to offer him as nourishment. The five Trollhunters tried their hardest to contain their giggles as they watched the situation unfold.

Any dirty laundry? No. Compost? Expired milk? Yeah, no. Some of Barbara’s leftover cooking? Nooope.

Thankfully, Toby intervened after about the tenth thing she offered. “Well, what  _do_ you eat, Angor? We’d be bad zombie troll hosts if we let you go hungry.” A second of thought cut through the teen’s head and he quickly added, “Just don’t say brains!”

 **“I am a _hunter_.”**  Angor answered, plain and straightforward.  **“I hunt.”**

Well that set off some alarms. “WOAH woah woah woah, there! Time out!” Exclaimed Toby, jumping down from his chair, “If you’re going to be 'hunting’ anything, then we’re going to have to set some ground rules here!”

Claire and Jim exchanged a look. Toby started listing things off.

“So, no hunting Trollhunters, no hunting trolls, no hunting people, no hunting people’s  _dogs_ , no-”

“You should try the cats.” Dictatious snickered from the living room. He wasn’t even really listening to whatever the heck they’re all talking about, but an opportunity to poke fun at Toby was present and he had to take it. “Appetizing little things.”

“NO! NO CATS! DON’T MAKE ME GET OUT THE SPRAY BOTTLE!” Toby threw a cookie at the green troll’s head, then rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Angor. “How about  _don’t kill anything below the knees,_ okay _._ ”

“What about raccoons?” Blinky added in.

“Okay, raccoons are an exception, raccoons are the spawn of Satan, he can definitely eat raccoons.”

**“You lost me at 'dogs’.”**

Oh. Right. He probably has no idea which animal’s called what. That kind of thing is so easy to forget.

“Guys, guys,” Jim cut in, laughing a bit, “We can just show him things like deer to go for, it’ll be fine.”

 **“Is this _really_ where you’re letting your priorities lie right now?”** Angor mulled, slipping the golem away into the pouch on his belt before it could be noticed. **“The way I understand it, you have _more pressing matters_  that need attention.”**

… Yeah. Can’t argue with that.

“He is right,” Blinky agreed, tone more serious now. “We shouldn’t be putting off our reasons for coming.”

Disappointing as it was, it’s true they should start getting down to business.

A low grunt came from Angor Rot, satisfied that they were at least getting on track. As they discussed how they would proceed, Angor wandered over to the other room, curious about the strange image box that other troll seemed so fascinated with.

 

“Then it’s settled.” Claire sat up from her spot, reconfirming their parts. “Toby and Aaargh will take Blinky and I to the Heartstone to see what we’re working with, and Jim will take Angor Rot back to his place to update everyone else on the situation, then meet us at Trollmarket later.”

They were all in agreement. Jim’s friends went to gather their things, and Jim went to gather Angor Rot.

“Hey, you ready to head ou….” Jim held that thought when he noticed the two trolls in the living room were actually… talking. Judging from the conversation, Jim could guess that Angor must have been confused about the TV.

“No no, they’re not  _real_ scenarios.” said Dictatious, “Humans record themselves making up stories and broadcast them on these…. metal box things… what are they called….” He snapped his fingers upon remembering. “Ah, yes, television sets.”

**“Strange. For what purpose?”**

“They use it as a constant form of entertainment for their little, easily-amused minds.”

**“… Aren’t _you_ doing that right now?”**

…….. Oh. Well. Walked right into  _that_ one.

“Well. It’s not like I have anything  _better_ to do.” That was about all Dic could offer as a response to that.

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle at their interaction. When he did, Angor looked his way.

“We’re all heading out now.” Jim said, and he gestured to the door. “You good to go?”

 

Okay. This should be simple enough, right? Just get in there, tell them that the assassin that tried to kill them all multiple times is alive again, but it’s fine, he’s on our side. Easy.

Yeahhh….  _right_.

Jim’s been staring at his phone on and off on the way to his mom’s house, wondering if he should send a text first? Call? But every time he pulls up his messages or reaches for that green button, he knows he’s not going to be able to say what he needs to  _how_ he needs to. This is an… 'in-person’ kind of conversation.

**“You look nervous, Trollhunter.”**

And….  _speaking_ of in-person conversations….

Jim took a deep breath. “You know, uh, Angor….” He started, rubbing his neck, “You  _did_ try to kill my mother, sooo…. you know…. hoping she won’t freak out too bad.”

That’s fair. But it doesn’t seem like that’s  _all_ that’s on his mind.  **“There is something else.”**

“Welllll….” How should he say this…. “Um, thing is, we  _kind_ of have another person in the house now that might make this all even more…. awkward.”

Angor was starting to get a little suspicious. Jim could see it in the way he narrowed his eye.

**“What is it that you’re so hesitant to tell me?”**

“Uhhh…. well, it’s….” Jim’s voice lowered in volume but heightened in pitch as he said the name. “Mr. Strickler?”

Full stop.

There was a twitch, the  _slightest_ twitch, when Angor heard that name, but it was enough to make Jim actually feel legitimate worry for the first time since he saw Angor that the troll might actually try to kill somebody. Didn’t help put Jim’s mind at ease when the troll repeated his name with seeping venom in his voice.  _ **“Stricklander.”**_

“Look, I  _know_ you hate the guy. I don’t blame you.” Jim said quickly, not wanting to let Angor’s mind wander to too violent thoughts if he could help it, “But he’s  _changed_ , I promise! He got a second chance just like you’re getting, and he’s  _better_ now. I’m not saying you have to be his  _friend_ , just…. don’t  _slaughter_ him, please?”

It wasn’t a lot for him to ask. But to Angor, it sure as hell  _felt_ like it.

 **“… Fine.”** said the troll finally, Jim sighing in relief.  **“If it matters _that_ much.”**

“Thank you…”

 

Here comes the hard part.

Angor was asked to wait on the porch, out of the doorway’s line of sight. Something told Jim that his mom opening the door to see Mr. Murder Spree right away with no warning wasn’t a great idea. Jim had his hand raised to knock, but he was hesitating.

This is going to be… an awkward reunion…

It took him a long moment of mental preparation, but Jim finally knocked.

Cue Barbara.

Cue instant happiness for Jim at the sight of her. Barbara’s eyes lit up too when they saw her son.

“Jim!” First thing she did was hug him tight.

“It’s so great to see you, mom!” Jim said, worries temporarily forgotten as he enjoyed her familiar warmth. “How are things going with Strickler and the kids?”

“Oh, busy, of course… But good! You wouldn’t believe how many of them we’ve reunited with their families!“ She was absolutely beaming. “We’ve got so much we need to talk about! How was New Jersey?”  
  
They do have so much to talk about, and Jim wishes he could take more time to catch up right now, but…. “It was great, mom, I wish you could’ve seen it… but, uh, I actually don’t have too much time to catch up right now…”

“Of course, of course, Toby told us yesterday that you had some Trollhunter busines-”

“It’s not just that.” Jim wasn’t usually one for cutting people off, but he wanted to get the hardest part over with. “Is Strickler around?”

“He’s upstairs… Why?”

“Okay, just…. don’t freak out, alright? I need to show you something -  _someone_ \- but he’s safe, I promise! Just be cool!”

Great. Now Barbara was worried.

She followed Jim further out onto the porch….

…. and made an ungodly strange noise of shock, anger, confusion, and about twenty other different emotions.

Again, Jim rushed to reassure. ( _Especially_ when he saw her reach for her pepper spray.) “No no no, it’s okay,  _really!_ ” He held up his hands frantically, praying he wouldn’t get sprayed as he stood in front of Angor Rot. “None of us know what’s going on, but he’s on  _our_ side,  _honest!_ ”

From destroying their house and almost murdering them all to 'on their side’ just like that? Barbara’s supposed to  _believe_ that?

…. Well…. She trusts  _Jim_ , at least…..

She still kept eyeing Angor with suspicion, (Angor honestly couldn’t care less, he was just going with the flow at this point), but she did put her pepper spray away. That was enough for Jim.

“Thanks, mom…” He sighed. “Can we come in…?”

 

Angor Rot remembers the last time he was here. Seeing this house without it being infested with traps was basically like seeing it for the first time, though. Many details he could see now that he never noticed before.

The older human had gone upstairs to, Angor Rot presumes, talk to Stricklander about all 'this’. In the meantime, Jim was watching Angor as he wandered the living room, perusing the decor.

He had paused to stare at the portrait of a man in strange attire, bearing some resemblance to the Trollhunter. Angor’s head leaned to the side as he looked at it, trying to remember if this was a human he had seen with them before. He doesn’t  _remember_ seeing him, but why would they keep this large image of a random human on the wall if it wasn’t someone close to them, or an important figure?

“That’s my father.” Jim’s voice answered Angor’s puzzlement.

Oh. Of course. That’d be the obvious answer.

**“I don’t recall ever seeing him with you the first time.”**

When Jim’s response to that was a quiet laugh more bitter than Cimmerian Fruit, Angor started to catch on that there was a reason for that.

“He’s been gone for over ten years, man.” He answered.

**“Deceased?”**

“Left us when I was five.”

Hmm. That explains it.

The conversation was interrupted by Barbara, apparently she had come back downstairs some time ago. “Jim? Could we talk to you in the kitchen, please?”

“Sure thing.” The half-troll got up from his spot and left Angor to his own devices - he’d be fine, Jim was sure, probably just look at other things and try to figure out what they are.

Strickler, understandably, was a  _little_ upset.

“Are you  _mad_ , Jim?!” He had exclaimed. Barbara gave him a look.

“Don’t call my son mad, Walt.”

“Apologies. Oh, and it’s good to see you by the way, young Atlas.”

“Likewise” Jim replied.

But anyways, back to the freaking out. “But why on Earth would you think bringing  _him_ here would be a good idea?!” Strickler kept glancing at the door as if Angor would burst in and knife him at any moment. “He is a  _deranged psychopath_  that  _hates me_  and you brought him right here?!”

“First of all, he’s not  _deranged_.” Jim started, crossing his arms. “We’ve been with him for hours, and he hasn’t done a thing wrong.”

“ _Yet_.” Strickler countered, “And need I remind you that  _he tried to kill us all!_ ”

“I see your point.  _Counter point_ …. Need I remind  _you_ who revived the guy in the first place and used him for their evil bidding which is what  _led_ to him trying to kill us all?”

Well, can’t deny  _that_. Can’t deny the fact that he’s still dangerous either, though. “Jim, he  _hates_ me. He could  _hurt_ you or Barbara. We can’t just  _welcome him_ with open arms.”

“Didn’t expect you to.” Jim said. “Just listen - the guy’s been controlled and manipulated by Morgana for, like….  _thousands_ of years, right? That’s all he  _knew_ for the longest time. It didn’t even  _occur_ to him that he could ditch her once he had his soul back, you know? But once he  _realized_ that, he chose to help  _us_. Doesn’t that mean  _something?_ ” Then, he added, “Besides,  _you_ got a second chance. Why can’t  _he_ have one?”

That’s…. actually a fair set of points. Jim thought so too, and he hoped it was enough, because he’s going to get awful tired of constantly trying to justify having Angor Rot around if this keeps up.

Still, Strickler was less than convinced. More willing to consider the potential here, maybe, but definitely not convinced. “Somehow I don’t think our history will be ‘water under the bridge’ to him, even if he does seem…. ‘peaceful’, for now.”

“Well, have you considered  _apologizing?_ ”

“What?” Strickler scoffed, “Apologizing?”

“A foreign concept to you, I know.” A half-joking quip on Jim’s part. “But seriously. You should  _probably_ let him know you’re not a  _complete_ scumbag anymore.”

Right, because that would go  _swimmingly_. "Oh sure, I’ll just say 'Hello Angor Rot, I’m sorry for enslaving you and punching you and calling you a dog, but I hope we can still be friends’!  _How well do you think that will go?!_ ”

“Oh, I don’t know, about as well as 'Hey Barbara, I tried to murder your son numerous times and helped in the escape of a psychopathic warlord that wanted to wipe out your kind, but I hope we can still date’! How well did  _that_ go?”

“ _Not well!_  She was  _furious_ with me!”

"That’s true, I  _did_ get some very strong urges to punch him in the face for a while there.” Barbara added in.

“Not to mention your mother’s not a  _crazed assassin!_ ”

“Again,  _not_ crazed - Look, just  _trust_ me, you’ll be  _fine!_ ” To prove his point, Jim looked into the other room and called over to Angor, “Hey Angor, you’re not going to kill Strickler, right?”

The troll’s golden eye flicked to Jim, contemplating his options.  **“How badly do you need him _alive?_ ”**

“Wh-?! _Dude!”_ Jim exclaimed, almost sounding like he was personally offended.  _“We talked about this!”_

Before the half-troll got too worked up over that offhand comment, Angor snorted. **“I _will_ keep my word, Trollhunter.” ** He went back to examining some books on the shelves, and rumbled under his breath,  **“Even if the temptation _not_ to is strong….”**

Not very confidence-inspiring so far to Barbara and Strickler. But it’s better than nothing.

It  _is_ better than nothing…

And an apology was still in order. Jim probably won’t let that go anytime soon. And Angor probably deserved to hear it.

No…. he  _did_ deserve to hear it. Strickler couldn’t deny that.

“Well come on then.” Persisting, Jim started towards the living room where Angor was, gesturing for Strickler to follow suit. If things did go sour, Jim could be the backup plan, but he was…. well,  _99%_  sure this won’t be violent.

Maybe 98%. Which is still more sure that Strickler could say he was. He had about a million scenarios of ways in which this could go terribly wrong running through his head, but…

Well, looks like this is happening anyway. Okay, this will be  _fine_ , just take a deep breath, and…. and get out there.

 

In the living room, Angor had found a pile of strange-looking books in stiff, light covers. How are  _these_ supposed to be read? They don’t open like regular books, the cover seems almost stuck together - no, wait, he got it open-

Wait, there are no pages? Just a circle inside with the same picture on the cover? What? What use even  _is_ this? Human objects are so peculiar.

“Angor?”

Angor Rot put the DVD case back, turning to the Trollhunter after being addressed by him.

He wasted no time in laying everything out plain and simple. “You don’t have to have anything to do with Strickler after this, but before you spend the rest of your time here tuning him out, he has something to say to you.” Then, Jim stepped out of the doorway so Strickler could come in and take it away.

…… Any minute now.

………..  ………..  ………..

 **“… This is not very informative.”**  Angor said dryly after some time.

Jim glared at the doorway, clearing his throat loudly. “Ah- _HEM_.”

Finally Strickler’s avocado of a head showed itself to peek around the corner, and he stepped out into the living room. Under Angor Rot’s menacing glare, how his face contorted merely at the sight of him, it was almost enough to make Strickler shudder. But he pushed away that urge, instead making himself stand (somewhat) tall and face his former prisoner. Whether he could find the right words to express this sentiment, he wasn’t sure, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

“Angor Rot… When we first met, it was under circumstances of anger and conflict. I had no regrets using you for my own gain - that is, only until I had actual  _consequences_ to deal with.”

A soft growl rumbled within Angor Rot, riled at simply the memory of having to answer this Impure’s every beck and call, putting up with that utter  _arrogance_ so constantly… But the troll kept quiet, despite how much he wanted to snap at this thing (or just snap his  _neck_ , really), because he had to admit he was somewhat curious to see what Strickler had to say.

“I treated you as nothing more than a tool. Sometimes even lesser than.” Strickler admitted, and he looked away. Angor was surprised to actually be seeing some semblance of  _shame_ on his face. “I had no right to treat you like that. If I could make it up to you, I would.”

 **“You say that.”** Angor Rot said, not convinced by the words of a Changeling so silver-tongued,  **“But is that not only because it’s what the son of your mate _expects_ from you?”**

“No. Not just that. Young Atlas is what convinced me to face you, yes, but I am speaking the truth.” Locking eyes with Angor again, he spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster. “I expect no forgiveness, but I hope you at least believe me when I say that I am  _sorry_ , Angor Rot.”

… Is he now….

 **“I am _far_ from accepting any sort of apology from  _you_.” ** Angor growled at him, voice and glare both harsh at first… though both  _did_ mellow out, even if only  _barely_ , just a moment later.  **“… But, I will keep it… in mind.”**  

You know what, Strickler will take that. This outcome is way better than the disastrous 50+ scenarios he imagined in his head.

Jim gave himself a satisfied nod. It wasn’t perfect, but could have gone way worse. Hopefully now, tensions won’t be running  _too_ high between these two.

“Jim?” Enter Barbara, holding a house phone against her ear. “Apparently Toby’s been trying to reach you for ages.”

“Aw, jeez!” Jim slapped his own head. “I think I forgot my phone at his place! Tell him we’ll be right there!” Making haste, he headed out the door. “C’mon, Angor!”

Hm. Never a dull moment around this group, is it.

He gave Strickler and Barbara one  last look, then donned his umbrella and followed Jim out the door. Instant sighs of relief from the both of them.

 

The sun was starting to set. Soon Angor Rot wouldn’t even need the umbrella. The canal was shady enough as is, under the bridge’s shadow.

“Okay, Toby should be up any minute to let us in.” Jim said, clicking the communication device, the one they had stopped by said human’s house to get, off and watching the wall, waiting for an opening.

Strange. It seemed only so recently to Angor that he was attacking this place, and now here he is, being let right inside. Who would’ve thought.

The stone wall began to crumble, glowing blue cracks splintering the stone in the shape of a doorway. At that cue, the pair of trolls walked inside.

“You  _gotta_ see this, Jimbo!” was the first thing out of Toby’s mouth. “The Heartstone’s being  _super_ weird!”

“Weird, like, how?” Asked Jim, the crystal stairs lighting up for them to walk down.

“Well, Aaarrrgghh and I were just here  _yesterday_ to check on it, right? But it was hardly even glowing then. Now, it… it’s all  _woah!_  You know?”

“All… ‘woah’.”

“Yeah! Like, it’s waaay more glowy! Still not like, ‘oooh, the Hearstone’s back to normal’ glowy, but  _glowy!_ ” Toby was bouncing down the stairs ahead of them, eager for Jim to just see for himself. “Just come on!”

 

“I simply can’t explain it!”

Blinky had skimmed through every book in the library he could find on Heartstones. They were all in a disorderly pile next to one of its large red chunks of crystal. He paced back and forth as if he were on fire, flipping through one of the books again hoping  _some_ sort of miraculous explanation would appear.

“It just doesn’t make sense! How can a Heartstone  _come back to life?”_

“Well if something like this has never happened before, the answer probably won’t be in those books.” Claire pointed out, testily running her fingers along a Heartstone piece. “We need to think outside the box for this.”

“Heyyyy!”

They both turned at the sound of Toby’s voice, seeing him with Jim and Angor Rot. With any luck, the two extra set of heads will help shed some light on this situation. (Well…  _more_ light. In a non-literal sense.)

“I brought the othe- Woahhh…..” Toby gaped in awe at the Heartstone, the giant pulsing hunk of rock that,in the mere moments Toby was gone, has gone to shining almost as brightly as it once always did, even if it was still flickering now. “Did it do that in the time I was gone?!”

“Yeah, but we can’t figure out why!” Claire looked to Jim. “It hadn’t changed one bit while we’ve been with it until just now. It’s  _weird_.”

That  _is_ weird….

Jim went to take a closer look. Angor, for now, kept his distance and watched from afar.

It was like Jim could almost  _feel_ the Heartstone breathing its essence into his very core as he brushed his fingers along its sleek surface. It certainly gave Jim the impression that there’s a possibility of thriving troll life here again. But there’s got to be a reason.

“And there’s nothing in the library on this?” Jim wanted to confirm.

Blinky answered, disappointment in his voice, “Not a thing.”

Other possibilities,  _any_ other possibilities… The group brainstormed like there was no tomorrow, bouncing all sorts of crazy ideas off of each other. Could it be some kind of undiscovered species symbiotically exchanging energy with it? No, they’d have seen something like that by now, unless it was  _tiny_ … Or, what if some magical artifact was brought down here, tampering with the Heartstone, or…

Maybe Angor should have been paying attention. Normally he would be, but his attention was… preoccupied.

Something about the Heartstone was… strange to him… He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Most of him felt  _terribly_ uneasy. He didn’t know why.

But part of him… part of him was  _drawn_ to it.

He didn’t know why.

But that one small part of him, it managed to override the rest of his body’s protests to get closer. While the others talked, Angor slowly edged nearer to Arcadia’s Heartstone.

It got brighter.

Not just brighter - When Angor Rot was only inches from the stone, it flashed a blinding glare of a light, and  _everyone_ jumped back in surprise.

And when everyone, including Angor Rot, had jumped back… it calmed down again.

Blinky looked from the Heartstone to Angor Rot a few times. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he started to figure it out. “It… It’s reacting to  _you_.”

 **“What.”**  Angor’s expression shifted to one of confusion, not sure how to make sense of the other troll’s observation.  **“That makes no sense.”**

“Tobias!” All sorts of possibilities now going through his head, Blinky needed more information. “This ‘glowing’ business started happening the same day you called us, yes? Not many days ago?”

“I mean, yeah,” Toby confirmed, then looked at Aaarrrgghh. “Me and Aaarrrgghh’ve also been checking on it every day up until now, and it hadn’t changed a bit till  _today_.”

“Light weak. Not like this.” Aaarrrgghh spoke up in support.

“And you.” Now Blinky’s focus was back on Angor Rot. “How long have  _you_ been out of the Shadow Realm?”

 **“I wouldn’t know.”**  Honestly, does he not remember the whole  _unconscious_ thing?

“Oh! Wait wait wait!” All eyes now on him, Toby waved his arms frantically around in search of his phone and dialed up Steve, praying he’d answer.

Thankfully, after a few rings, he did. Toby put him on speaker first thing. “Whaddaya want, Dumbzalski? I’m in the middle of-”

“Yeah yeah, not important right now - Hey listen, you know when we were talking about that troll in the woods?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You said that Eli saw a… a  _light_ there before, right? When was that?”

“I don’t know, three… maybe four days ago? Why?”

“Kay thanks bye!”

“Wait, wh-?”

Explaining things to Steve wasn’t priority right now anyway, so Toby hung up. “If that was the same time Angor appeared here, then the timing would be, like,  _exactly_ right!”

“It was faint while Angor Rot was in the woods… then we brought him back to Arcadia, and it got stronger.” Claire added on to that. “Now he’s  _right here_ , and it’s…”

They all looked to the Heartstone. Now they were actually  _getting somewhere_ with figuring out why it’s acting up. One step closer, at least - there are still many unanswered questions…

… and Angor couldn’t answer  _any_ of them. How in Deya’s name does any of this make  _sense?_

“But  _why_ , though?” Jim asked, thinking the same thing. “What connection does Angor Rot have with the Heartstone? He’s barely even been  _around_ it that much. Maybe once during that attack on Trollmarket, and also when he was…. Well….”

They all knew he was probably around it with Gunmar.

But still, why would any of that result in something like…  _this?_

“…. What if…..” It was a stretch. But still, an idea… There was no harm in Claire voicing it. “… What if it’s not exactly the Hearstone and Angor that have a connection, but something they share a connection  _with?_ ”

….. No.

“What do you mean, Claire?” Jim asked.

“Well, if you think about it, I mean….  _Morgana_ was trapped in there for a long time, right?” She shrugged a little, unsure. “Maybe there’s, like… some of ‘Her’  _in_ there? That can… ‘sense’ him or something?”

No.

“That… might actually be  _possible_.” Blinky furrowed his brow, one hand rubbing his chin in thought. “A magic user of  _Her_ strength being trapped there for so long, still  _awake_ , even… Some  _essence_ of Her could have been left behind here.”

“I mean, it’s the best explanation we  _got_ so far.” Toby pointed out.

 _No_.

“Okay, well… it’s better than nothing. A starting point, right?” Jim looked at Blinky. “Maybe we should start looking into–”

Wait. Something else was catching Jim’s attention.

The tint of a vicious glowing green out of the corner of his eye. The cold sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

Creeper’s Sun.

What happened next was a blur. Weapons were drawn. Panicked words were spoken by everyone around, save for Angor and Jim.

Jim saw the blade, and he reacted. The others, they saw the Creeper’s Sun and their first thought was to prepare for an attack. But Jim, he was the first to see Angor had turned the blade towards himself.

He forgot he could move that fast until he made the leap to Angor’s side, Eclipse Blade appearing in hand, and knocked the poison-coated dagger out of Angor’s grip mere  _milliseconds_ before he had the chance to plunge it into his own body. Jim  _also_ forgot how fast  _Angor_ could move - the troll had him thrown to the ground in almost as many milliseconds. He went for his weapon again.

Both Toby and Claire drew their weapons, Blinky beginning to curse himself for letting such an enemy so close, and they all started to move in.

But, to everyone’s surprise, Aaarrrgghh moved an arm in their way. “Wait.”

Aaarrrgghh caught on, as the others soon would, that this wasn’t meant to be a fight. Not like they think.

The first thing Jim did when he got himself up was jump to the Creeper’s Sun, careful not to touch it, but standing over it just in time to block Angor from it, even grabbing his arm to keep him from reaching for it. “What the  _hell_ do you think you’re doing, man?!”

 **“Don’t you _get it,_  Trollhunter?!” **Angor shouted back, a flare of violet magic firing up in his free hand.  **“For as long as I am alive, a part of _Her_ lives within me! A fragment of Her  _soul!_ ”**

“So what, you’re going to  _kill yourself?!_ That won’t  _fix anything!_ ”

The magic in his hand got brighter, near threatening to burst as some sort of attack attempt. Jim had been keeping his eye on it, but in this moment, was more focused on the distraught troll holding it.

 **“I won’t be _used_ by Her again! I can’t-!” **Angor shook his head, breaking eye contact with Jim. The anguish in his voice was very nearly camouflaged by all the anger.  _Nearly_.  **“I am not Hers _any longer..!_ ”**

“Angor,  _listen_ …” It was a softer voice Jim used this time. No less firm, but with sympathy. “We don’t know what  _any_ of this means. We can’t just go around making rash decisions like…” Well… He looked at the Creeper’s Sun. 

“Master Jim is right,” Blinky added in. He may not trust Angor Rot, but this is not an outcome anyone needs right now. “For all we know, our hypothesis could be completely erroneous. Your connection to Morgana  _could_ be harmless in this context.”

 **“And if it _isn’t?_ ” **Angor looked from Blinky to Jim, only appearing more frustrated, and that magic in his hand burning brighter in preparation to fight for his knife if he had to.  **“You would be _fools_ to even consider taking the  _risk_.”**

“If it  _isn’t_ ,” Jim went on, demanding his attention once again, “We’ll deal with it  _another way._ ”

He had Angor listening to him, at least. But  _convinced?_  That was another story. He’s still eyeing the Creeper’s Sun as if it could be a good idea.

Jim decided to try taking a practical route, one more attempt to reason with the troll.

“What if this is what She  _wants_ you to do? What if She only needed to get you out of the Shadow Realm to get killed, and let that piece of Herself loose in  _our_ realm? I mean think about it, it was only pure luck that sunlight didn’t get to you before we did, and heck, She knows you have lots of enemies around here. I’ve  _seen_ souls escape your body when you died before. Do you really think  _that’s_ worth the risk?” Jim’s grip on Angor’s arm loosened,  _just_ a touch, as he spoke. “There are  _way_ too many ‘what if’s, too many possibilities. We don’t know what Her thought process is with all this. What if we end up playing right into Her hands?”

Seems that Jim Lake Jr. is on a roll with good points today. Angor Rot actually looked like he was deliberating those words pretty carefully now.

“Look, it’s been a long day, a lot’s happened, we’re all confused and tired… Why don’t we sleep on this for now and tackle everything in the morning, huh?”

Unanimous agreement came from his friends at that suggestion. It  _has_ been an unforgivably long day. They  _are_ all confused and tired. Sleep probably sounds like an absolute blessing to them right now.

… The flare of magic Angor was holding slowly started to fade, before fizzling out completely. He took a step back. Jim felt  _such_ a rush of relief, as did the others.

Nice and slow, he picked up the knife, keeping an eye on Angor all the while. Just to be safe, he wouldn’t return it quite yet. Angor was unsurprised - he’d deal without it for now.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?”

 

You’d think these kids hadn’t seen a bed in years with how quickly they passed out into them.

Toby and Claire were the first to go, Aaarrrgghh snuggling up next to them on the.plethora of mattresses and bedding Nana Domzalski let them lay down in the living room. Jim smiled as he looked at them all from the stairway where he sat, just seeing them again filling him with a familial feeling of comfort. Normally Jim would be sleeping at his own place, but right now, he feels more at ease being closer to everyone.

Especially considering…

He looked over at the troll sitting in the corner furthest away from everyone else. Jim couldn’t tell if he was sleeping, but if he had to take a guess he’d say that Angor was. It’s not like people stay perfectly still with their eyes (eye?) closed for many  _other_ reasons.

“Can’t sleep, Master Jim?” 

His ears twitched at the sound of another voice, and he looked to his left to see Blinky coming up next to him. “Nah, guess not.” He replied, voice matching Blinky’s whisper to not wake anyone. “It’s a lot to think about, you know?”

“All too well.” Jim’s trainer followed his stare to their friends, chuckling at the cute sight before sighing. “It was a nice time of peace while it lasted.”

“Yeah. Guess it was too good to be true, that it’d be that easy to deal with someone like Morgana.” 

“Mm,” Blinky sighed in agreement, the hand holding his staff making wringing motions around it. “But at least, this time, she is alone.” His six eyes glanced across the room to Angor. “… Mostly alone.” He added quietly.

It was Jim’s turn to follow Blinky’s stare.

“… Hey, Blinky, I was thinking…” This isn’t going to be taken well, Jim was sure of it, but… “I think it might be a good idea to have someone stay with Angor Rot, in case all of  _us_ ever have to go somewhere suddenly and can’t take him, or… well, just someone to… to help him  _adjust_ to living here and… stuff…”

“Ah, and someone to keep him out of trouble as well! Grand idea! Whom do you suggest?”

“Welllll… I  _did_ have someone specific in mind…” There was a moment’s hesitation, but Jim brought himself to speak his… strange suggestion. “…. Dictatious, actually.”

“ _WHAT_ -” One of his many hands clapped over his mouth, peeking at their friends in hopes he hadn’t woken them - when he was assured they didn’t wake, Blinky turned back to Jim, astonished. “Why  _him_  of all people?! I hardly trust  _either_ of those two simply on their  _own_!”

“Just hear me out, Blinky. Angor’s going to have to do a  _lot_ of adapting.” Jim had been racking his brain all night about this, and it showed a little. “Strickler taught him a few things about modern civilization when he summoned him -  _very_ few things - but that was back when Angor was staying out of everyone’s sight most of the time, doing his own thing-”

“Hunting you?” Blinky brusquely added.

“That too - but my  _point_ is, the situation’s  _different_ now. He’s going to  _need_ toknow more stuff,someone to, like… show him the ropes, you know? It’s a lot to take in, and Angor’s probably under enough stress as is, and  _yeah_ , maybe having someone to keep him out of trouble would be good too, and-”

“Master Jim, I understand where you’re coming from.” Blinky interrupted his rambling, a perplexed look on his face. “But why  _Dictatious?_  Wouldn’t a better choice be….” … Pause. “….  _literally anyone else_?”

“Well, if you think about it… Dictatious was kind of in a similar situation. Being thrown into our world, having to get used to everything different, being our  _enemy_ and then being on our side so suddenly… but he actually adapted pretty  _fast_ , right?” Jim thought so. Sure, maybe it was only because he  _had_ to, but still. “Maybe having someone who  _understands_ the kinds of things he’s going through will make the transition easier on Angor Rot. Plus, I heard Dictatious say himself that he doesn’t really have much on his plate anyway. He’d have the most time out of all of us to  _do_ it.” Jim looked in Angor’s direction. “… And…”

Now Blinky had a feeling he knew where Jim’s mind went next. “… and you’re worried Angor Rot may make an attempt on his own life again, if left unchecked.”

Bingo. Jim sighed. “We might have the antidote to Creeper’s Sun, but what’s to stop him from just waltzing into the  _regular_ sun if he wants to?”

Blinky looked skeptical. “You think my  _brother_ would?”

“Maybe not directly, but… I don’t know. Maybe if Angor Rot just had somebody there, to… to feel  _responsible_ for, or something?” Jim sighed. plopping his head in his hands. “I don’t know, Blink. I just want to try  _something_. I don’t… I don’t want him to be  _alone_.”

Being alone is a terrible feeling.

Blinky put a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “I will talk to Dictatious about it.” He said quietly, a reassuring look upon his face.

“Thanks, Blink.” Jim smiled, grateful. Then, a yawn came about.

“Well!” At this rate, Blinky and his pupil wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, so! “Now that we’ve got  _that_ sorted out, perhaps a sleeping aid is in order! To the kitchen, some tea for you, some whipped cream for me!”

Jim quietly laughed. “I thought you didn’t like whipped cream when you have troll tastebuds.”

“It’s an  _acquired_ taste!” Blinky chirped with a jaunty (what Jim assumed to be a) wink. He and his pupil joked amongst themselves as they went to raid the kitchen.

They didn’t notice that Angor’s one golden eye make itself visible in the darkness as they passed.

That’s fine. The assassin didn’t particularly  _want_ to be noticed.

He didn’t make a sound as he pulled the little totem figure he’d been working on out of his pouch, along with a spare knife. The soft grind of blade against rock was quiet enough as to not wake the other two human adolescents.

That was easy enough. He was a master of stealth, after all.

His gaze would sometimes shift to the direction of the kitchen. He was… intrigued.

The Trollhunter is so…  _sentimental_. The idea of losing one troll, a former  _enemy_ no less, shouldn’t bother him so. How did someone with such a weak heart become such a formidable adversary?

 

Ah, the morning. Well…. more like noon for the teenagers, anyway. They were tired, okay?

The humans were downstairs, just where Angor Rot was headed after being (properly) introduced to Dictatious. It was a quick ordeal - Neither of them had much to say to each other. Blinky must have felt awkward in the silence, because he was pretty quick in suggesting he speak to his brother alone for a moment. Who was Angor to stick around where he didn’t have to?

The children have proven to be more interesting to observe so far, anyway.

“… no, but hear me out! The Heartstone is  _totally_ a Horcrux, and that makes Angor Rot Harry Potter!”

… Wait,  _what_ are they talking about?

“Hoor-crucks?” Aaarrrgghh repeated, confused. “Harry? Potter?”

“ _Harry Potter!_ ” Toby shouted back, reaching for another pancake of the stack Nana made for everyone. “Have you never seen Harry Potter? You are  _missing out!_ ”

“Cinematic masterpieces,” Jim chuckled in agreement.

“ _Literature_ masterpieces, you mean?” Sliding her knife through the butter, Claire smirked. “The books are  _waaay_ better.”

“Neeerrrd! Movies all the way!”

A glob of butter was promptly flicked Toby’s way. He deserved it.

They all laughed as Toby wiped the butter off his face, then the redhead caught sight of the confused troll lingering in the doorway. “Oh, look look!” With no hesitation, he leapt out of his seat and held his arms out towards Angor, making a display of him. “Look! Tell me he’s not a taller, edgier, knifier Harry Potter! He  _totally_ is!”

It would be an understatement to say Angor was confused at this point. **“I’m a… what?”**

The way Toby’s face just shifted at those words, eyes sparkling with joy and disbelief like he might cry tears of happiness, now had Angor almost  _concerned_ : “Dude…” He squeaked, “Say that again.”

 **“Erhm….”**  His eye flicked to Claire, Jim, and Aaarrrgghh to gauge reactions. Jim and Claire looked to be expecting something, and like they were… holding back laughter. Aaarrrgghh looked almost as confused as Angor felt. **“… I’m a what?”**

More eye sparkles. Toby was  _giddy_ as he whispered, “You’re a  _wizard_ , Harry.”

**“…. What.”**

In perfect timing, all three of them exclaimed in unison, _“A wizard!”_

Then they all burst out into hysterical giggles.

Soooooo confused right now.

When Blinky came down the stairs with Dictatious, in time to hear their corny movie references, Angor gave him a curious look.  **“You _understand_ this jargon they speak?”**

"Haven’t the foggiest idea.” Blinky said, accompanied with a four-armed shrug.

“You get used to it eventually.” added Dictatious, rolling his eyes at their dumb references.

“Now then!” He followed up, changing the subject, “I’ll be borrowing my brother for just a little while longer, but Master Jim, you and Angor can meet us in the library later, yes?”

“Sure thing!” Jim gave a thumbs up. “We’ll be down after breakfast!”

“Splendid!” With everything in order, the brothers were on their way, Blinky waving as they walked out. “Until then!”

 **“Hmm.”**  Angor looked at the children. **“I was under the impression those books held nothing of value for this.”**

“Well, Blinky figured it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on any Heartstone anomalies that have been recorded over the years, to get a sense of how ours might act under these new conditions.” Claire explained, starting to gather the dishes. “Also, looking for any useful info they can about Morgana.”

Well, that’s probably a decent enough idea. Better than doing nothing, anyway.

 **“And that… ‘Dictatious’.”**  He pulled out a spare knife, cryptic expression on his face as he started to sharpen it on his own body.  **“You mean for him to be some sort of ‘guide’ to me?”**

“I thought it might be good for you to have him around, yeah.” As he and Toby helped Claire clean up, Jim looked at Angor, both a little worried about how he’d take that, and also about that strange look in his eye. “I hope that’s… okay?”

Angor held Jim’s stare for a moment, then shrugged and went back to minding his knife.  **“I have no objections.”**  Quieter, he added,  **“Though from the looks of him, it seems I’ll be doing most of the literal _guiding_.”**

“Don’t let Dic hear you say that.” Toby laughed awkwardly.

“You know, speaking of Dictatious,” Jim spoke up, “I should probably bring you up to speed on his, um… ‘history’ with us.”

 

“Gunmar was born from a  _rotten_ Heartstone.”

Dictatious looked bored out of his mind, sitting at the table holding his head up with one arm, as Blinky sped-read like there was no tomorrow.

“This one had not even  _begun_ to rot.” He continued, “It was merely  _dead_.”

“Still, it too was surrounded by a violent war.” Blinky countered, flipping through pages at the speed of light, “If it was harboring some of Morgana’s essence this whole time-”

“It had not had to deal with the violence for  _nearly_ as long. The Battle of Eternal Night was remarkably short in comparison. It’d be  _quite_ the leap to assume the Pale Lady’s magic was what was preserving it.”

“You may be right,” Blinky admitted, closing the book he had and putting it down in exchange for another, “but it’s too soon to disregard  _any_ possibilities.” After another minute’s page-flipping, he looked to his brother, noticing how bored he looked. “… Do you have any other books with information on Morgana that I’m missing?”

“You should know, Blinkous, you’ve been here more often than _I_  have these years.” Still, he got up from his seat and started to feel around.

It almost surprised Blinky how much Dictatious still remembered the layout of this library and its contents. Dic was right, Blinky’s been around the library a lot longer in recent times, but Dictatious has still been surprisingly helpful in finding and suggesting reading material that could be useful to their research.

As Dictatious perused the shelves, Blinky went back to what he was reading.

“What happened to my books?”

“What?” Dictatious’s voice caught Blinky’s attention again. He looked over, seeing Dic feel around multiple shelves, moving books around and seeming disturbed - but nothing seemed out of order with the books  _themselves_. “What do you mean?”

“These shelves should not be this  _empty_ …” There was an air of suspicion in his tone, his eyes squinting as they hopelessly strained to make out the covers. Dictatious moved to another set of shelves, feeling around and coming up with similar results. Even without working eyes, he could tell something was amiss. “So many of them are  _missing_. Blinkous, why are so many of my books  _missing_?”

Oh, that - ohh.  _Ooohhh_ ……

Well, to be fair, Blinky didn’t think his memory of the library would be  _that_ good…. Or at least he had  _hoped_ it wouldn’t be…

Very awkwardly, Blinky cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, about that… erm… Well, it’s a funny story, actually…”

Now Dictatious  _knew_ something was being kept from him. He sent a harsh stare Blinky’s way. “What do you mean,  _funny story?_ ”

“First of all, you must understand that I was still  _very_ mad at you…” Still kind of am, but Blinky had been trying to improve their relationship since then. This might damage that goal, though. “At the time, it seemed like a good  _venting_ idea…”

When Dictatious’s eyes went wide, then narrowed with more intensity than before, Blinky knew he was fucked. “Blinkous…” He growled,  _“What  did you do?”_

“….. and after all was said and done with those goblins,  he’s been living at Toby’s place ever since.”

That about wrapped up everything Angor should need to know about Dictatious. Good timing, too - he and Jim were getting pretty close to the library now.

 **"Hrm…”** Gunmar’s right hand, turned traitor just like that? Odd that the Skullcrusher never mentioned such a thing. Then again, he surely had other things on his mind…

Still. A lot to consider about this brother of Blinky’s…

 **“You Trollhunters seem to have a bad habit of turning enemies to allies.”** Angor Rot observed aloud. At least it was starting to make more sense now, why they were so quick to offer  _him_ another chance. **“One day, that may be your downfall.”**

“Well, it hasn’t done us wrong yet.” Jim grinned, seeming pretty confident with his choices so far. “I’ll take my chances.”

**“Even with one so quick to betray his own kind for Gunmar?”**

“Dictatious may have his…  _many_ faults… It took a while for Blink to give him a chance, and I can’t say any of us had much belief in him either,” Jim admitted as they approached the library’s entrance, “but he’s been a lot better behaved lately. Even Blinky thinks so. According to Tobes, he’s been more mellow over the months - I mean, he has his moments, but for the most part he’s been pretty chill-”

“YOU  _BURNED_ MY  _BOOKS?!?!_ ”

The loud shout from inside left Jim blank-faced staring at the library.

Blinky’s voice could be heard too. “Look on the bright side! You won’t be  _reading_ them anymore!” 

"’LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE’, BLINKOUS?! ‘ _LOOK_ ON THE _BRIGHT SIDE’?!?!”_

“… Maybe not the  _best_ choice of words - _Hey!”  
_

That was followed with the sounds of things crashing around inside, as if things were being thrown. Angor Rot looked at Jim, skeptical of this ‘he’s been pretty chill’ claim.

“… Uhh…” Jim drawled, “Maybe we should… wait out here for a sec.”

Inside, the library was chaos. Dictatious had arms full of books and artifacts, ready to start chucking them in his brother’s direction.  _“Why would you do such a thing, you absolute IMBECILE?!”_

At this point, Blinky was starting to get pretty riled up too. “You BETRAYED me! I was  _furious!_  All I could think was how these were the books of a  _liar!_ ”

 _“YEARS of research down the drain! You BRAT!”_  Dictatious started throwing. What he lacked in aim he made up for in volume, grabbing anything near him and just chucking it in his rage. “It wasn’t enough that you  _left me blind_ , you had to  _destroy so much of my life’s work too?!_ ”

 _“Need I remind you,”_  Blinky snapped back, blocking what he could of the wildly thrown objects, “that you TRIED TO KILL ME?!” He started picking up the books and things landing around him and throwing them back. “So much for all that talk from before-” He started quoting Dictatious in a mocking tone, “’I forgive you for blinding me, brother! Hug me, brother!’  _BALDERDASH!_ ”

“THAT WAS BEFORE YOU  _BURNED MY BOOKS!!!_ ” He was almost too mad to even notice Blinky hitting him back (he was used to bumping into everything anyway, this isn’t much worse) “YOU  _DEFILED_ MY LIBRARY!”

 _“Well you can stay in your stupid library!”_  He threw his hands up in anger, done dealing with this right now. “I’m not going to sit here and take this drivel!”

As he was leaving, Dictatious threw one last book at his brother, hitting a wall instead.

“YOU MISSED!” 

_“I KNOW!”_

That was the last of it, as Blinky stormed out before any more could be said or done. Then he saw Angor and Jim.

“Don’t even start.” Blinky huffed, holding up a hand to halt either of them from saying anything, “I am  _not_ in the mood.”

The two of them just watched as he stomped away. “Ah, geez…” Jim whispered. He looked at Angor with an apology in his eyes. “I should really go talk to him… Are you okay staying with…?” He gestured to the library.

Angor raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t seem bothered.  **“… Alright.”**

“Thank you, sorry, thanks so much-” Jim didn’t stay long, not wanting to lose sight of Blinky. Angor was… surprised it’d be that easy to be rid of him. The distraction of an upset friend worked in his favour, he supposed.

Now, to go into the library as the Trollhunter wished… or to take this rare opportunity to roam alone.

Hmm…

 

That vile little  _brat_ …  _burning_ his  _work_ …

Dictatious was still fuming as he clumsily fumbled around to collect the books strewn about, his irritation only aiding the lack of coordination, making him even  _more_ irritated - what a vicious cycle.

He was struggling to get the armful he had back on their shelves when he heard someone come in. He didn’t know who it was. He didn’t care. He just glared in their direction and snapped,  _“What do you want?”_

**“At _this_ moment? Nothing you can give me.”**

Oh. Oh bushigal, that’s- Ohh.

Maybe snapping at vicious assassins wasn’t the greatest idea in the world. Angor could tell that was the thought going through Dictatious’s head - a small smirk tugged at his lips as he saw the smaller one’s ears dip down, a sign of submission and the  _slightest_ bit of fear.

Not afraid enough to retract his current sour mood, of course. He turned away and went back to putting books away, finishing with the stack he had and going off to get more. “Let me guess. The Trollhunter went after Blinkous.”

 **“The scholar in you is showing.”** Angor replied with the smallest hint of sarcasm. Leaning against the wall, arms folded, his gold eye studied Dictatious carefully as he tried to restore his library to  _some_ form of tidiness.  **“Not very _careful_ with the work you value so much, are you?”**

As if Dictatious needed his buttons pushed any more. This was one troll he wasn’t quite willing to tell off though, so he just gritted his teeth and kept working. Until he tripped over a used Kairosect he couldn’t see. “Curse these  _blasted eyes_ -” He hissed quietly, knocking it away.

Then he saw the blur that was (probably) Angor get closer. From the sounds of it, he started to pick up some books too. When he got a strange look from Dictatious for that, he just said,  **“You are painful to watch. It will be faster this way.”**

Oh. That’s… surprisingly helpful of him….

 

And, well, he was obviously right. The job went by much faster with someone there that could actually  _see_. When they finished up, it’s not like there was much more to do down in Trollmarket, so they made their way back to the surface.

It was strange though… There was the  _smallest_ of moments as they were walking through Trollmarket where Angor felt a strong sense of foreboding deep in his core. He stopped immediately.

Dictatious had to stop too, as he was using the other to judge where to go. “… Is something  _wrong_ , or are we just enjoying the  _scenery_ now?”

…  _Was_ something wrong?

Angor looked around slowly. Quickly as the feeling had come, it disappeared. **“… No.”** He said, continuing to lead Dictatious out.

He wouldn’t say it was his imagination. But right now, honestly nothing seemed  _wrong_. He had no reason to say otherwise.

 

Whatever happened between Blinky and Jim, Angor wasn’t sure. It had been a few days, and Dictatious still wouldn’t even acknowledge Blinky’s presence. Blinky still seemed angry too, but there was something new there when he looked at his brother. Something almost akin to… regret.

It had been a few days. For now, Angor had been staying with the teens - they hadn’t needed him to stay with Dictatious yet, they had all been available to keep an eye on him so far, and Jim knew that ‘situation’ in the library had made things a little sensitive right now. Maybe it had been too soon yet to leave those two together.

It had been a few days, with periodic checks to that one spot where Angor Rot appeared. Every check, nothing was out of place. A good thing.

It had been a few days, and Angor still had that strange feeling in Trollmarket in the back of his mind. He wasn’t near the Heartstone at the time. He  _wouldn’t_ call it nothing. What had been  _wrong?_

“You ready to go, Angor?”

Jim, Claire, and Toby had been waiting by the door, ready to make their way to the Lake household. (Well, wasn’t much to get ready for, it was just a walk across the street, but it was still good for Angor to have his umbrella on him just in case)

And umbrella he had, just in case.  **“What is it we’re doing?”**

“Something I wish we could put off, buuut…” Toby rolled his eyes.

“It’s important, Tobes. He knows the most about magic and Morgana.” Jim looked to Angor Rot. “We asked Merlin to meet us at my house.”

_**“Merlin?”** _

Angor Rot had been  _surprisingly_ compliant the whole time he’d been with them so far, so much so that Jim had already started growing used to it - but this time, he looked…  _particularly_ reluctant. Not a usual look on him.  **“Do you really think it wise that _I_  be there?”**

If you think about it, Morgana’s Trollhunter-killing soul-bearing assassin sorcerer might not be the best audience to… well…  _Merlin_.

“I know, I know, it’s… weird.” Jim admitted.

“But we think it’s important for you to be there.” Claire added too, “He might have some insight about all this.”

Still, Angor Rot was hesitant. But they  _did_ have a point. Why must they  _always_ have a point?

Of course, he came along.

“And hey, if he’s a jerk to you, don’t worry about it.” Jim made sure to say on the walk there. “He’s a jerk to pretty much everybody.”

 **"Is he?”** That was surprising. This  _is_ the great wizard Merlin, loved and respected by trolls everywhere… right? ‘Jerk’ wasn’t the first word to come to Angor’s mind.

Toby and Claire were very quick to voice their agreement. ” _Big-time_  jerk. Just look at what he did to Jim!“

Angor looked at Jim, still confused. **”… Was this not for the sake of winning a _war?_ “**

"Well yeah, but come on, _irreversible species change?_  Something tells me you wouldn’t appreciate being permanently turned human.” Toby persisted. “He turned Jim’s  _world_ upside down and didn’t even  _care!_ ”

“Not to mention he’s just, in general, an all-around  _jerk_.” Claire agreed.

Still, it was… hard for Angor to wrap his head around. He knows the Pale Lady  _despised_ him, but… how can someone so adored in troll history be so detested by his own  _Trollhunters?_

Looks like he’d find out.

Jim opened the door to Blinky and Merlin already going at it from inside. Aaarrrgghh, Strickler and Barbara were there too, Barbara looking about ready to fight Merlin too, and Aaarrrgghh and Strickler clearly just wanting the fight to blow over with no injured loved ones, thank you very much.

“The  _nerve_ of you!” Blinky snarled, all his hands curled into fists that looked ready to deck the wizard in the face. “How  _dare_ you blame this on Master Jim! It’s not like  _you_ were much help against Morgana!”

“I’m just saying,” Merlin’s nonchalant voice replied, “If he had killed Morgana the  _first_ time, we wouldn’t  _have_ this current problem on our hands.”

_“Why you-!”_

“Jim back!” Aaarrrgghh interrupted  _very_ purposefully. Everyone turned to the door.

“Heyy…” Jim greeted awkwardly, walking inside with the others. This was already a bad start to things…

When Merlin saw Angor Rot, his back straightened even more to look down his nose at the troll. “If it isn’t Angor Rot,” He said with a dry tone, “Slayer of Trollhunters.”

If the way Merlin said that bothered Angor, he was pretty good at hiding it. His expression remained fairly apathetic, aside from maybe one minor twitch that’d have given away his annoyance.

“ _Anyways_ …” Jim cut in, stepping in front of Angor, “You’ve been filled in on what’s going on, yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” In a manner that appeared both curious and perturbed, Merlin circled around them, specifically eyeing Angor Rot and looking him up and down. “And it’s this  _soul_ business I’m  _particularly_ interested in.” Cutting right to the chase, Merlin said, “I’m going to need some more privacy with this troll. Upstairs?” He gestured to the staircase.

Angor Rot’s eye narrowed at that, mistrustful. Jim’s face took on a look of unsureness too, not moving from his position in front of Angor. “You’re not going to do anything  _weird_ to him, are you?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t have anything much in the way for that sort of thing at the moment… so,  _probably_ not.”

“I’m coming too.” Jim asserted. It wasn’t up for debate. He did  _not_ trust the idea of these two alone.

It was pointless to argue - or, too bothersome to. Merlin just rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “Fine, fine. Come along, then.”

Jim and Angor traded skeptical looks, but still, followed him up the stairs. They  _were_ there for his insight, after all.

“… Sssooo…” Toby looked around at the others. “I guess we just… wait?”

 

Sure, wait for like  _two hours_. There were multiple times where Toby wanted to go up and check on everything, Barbara too at least once, but if there’s anything Claire’s learned about things regarding magic, it’s that you  _probably_ shouldn’t mess with proceedings like this, lest you  _make_ a mess. Nobody knew what they were doing up there, but if Merlin needed privacy, then it was best to just wait it out. Right?

Finally, they came back downstairs. The first thing Strickler and Barbara noticed was the grim look on Jim’s face, and the fury Angor was trying  _very_ hard to conceal. Toby was the first to jump up, quickly followed by Claire and Blinky. “Well? What was  _that_ about?”

“It’s worse than expected.” Merlin said, shaking off his hands of green-gold remnants of glowing magic. “I couldn’t do much, but I did manage to look into the piece of Her soul within this troll.”

Jim looked away. “We knew She had to be stronger than  _before_ to do all this, but…”

“Her magic has evolved to new levels.” Merlin was blunt about it, but even he had the faintest hint of worry in his tone. “The Shadow Realm may be a cage of nothingness, one that at first  _seems_ like a perfect solution, but it hasn’t stopped Her from practicing and enhancing Her abilities. From the looks of it, that’s  _all_ She’s been doing.” He wore a frown almost as dark as Jim’s. “This is only a fraction of Her soul, and it’s only going to get stronger as She does.”

Angor shook his head, seething with anger. He should be  _dead_ , he  _should be_ -

“And, might I add, troll…” Merlin said, as if he could read the other’s mind, “It’s in  _everyone’s_ best interests that you stay  _alive_. At least like this, we have this piece of Morgana under  _control,_ to  _some_ extent, and we can monitor it… Even if it’s just a piece of Her soul, letting it loose could bring us that much closer to our  _doom_.”

“ _Doom?_ ” Toby squeaked, “Well, She-She’s still not  _invincible_ , right?  _Right?_ ”

“Yeah! There’s  _got_ to still be a way to defeat Her!” Claire went to Jim as she spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “And besides,  _this_ time, She doesn’t have Gunmar and his army to help Her!”

“At the rate She’s going, She won’t  _need_ an army.” said Merlin. But, he had to give her credit. “Though, you’re right. This time, we’ll only have  _one_ target to worry about.”

“And our numbers continue to grow.” Strickler added too, with a look to Angor.

Blinky looked away, sighing under his breath, “'Even the word hopeless isn’t void of hope’…”

Now then, Merlin started to say something else, but was interrupted by the CRASH of NotEnrique bursting through the window.

He shook off the broken glass, looking around wildly for Claire, and when his eyes fell on her, words fell out of his mouth in a scramble. “Claire you gotta get home  _now_ it’s _so_ messed upthere’s all this crazy-”

Merlin interrupted NotEnrique back, obnoxiously clearing his throat. “Excuse me,  _Impure_ , I was in the middle of-”

“ _Can it, old man!_ ” NotEnrique returned his attention to what was important, talking to Claire. “We got a huuuge problem at home, sis! And by huge problem, I mean  _a huge flippin’ portal in the middle o’ the living room!_ ”

“ _What?!_ ” Claire exclaimed. “What do you mean  _huge portal?!_ ”

“WHAD'YA THINK 'HUGE PORTAL’  _MEANS_ , KID?!”

As if they needed another huge magic mess to deal with right now. While the kids started freaking out, Barbara stood up. Her time has come.

“Kids,” She said forcefully, “Get in the car!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Any feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Rare Sights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Bit by bit, things slowly start making sense to the Trollhunters about these strange happenings. Not soon enough though, because Claire’s sick of all these dang portals in her house. Dictatious brings Angor Rot up to speed on current events, and Angor Rot makes a good point about his brother, among other things. Also, Nomura wishes she didn’t have to be here.**

Jim didn’t even realize his mom could drive like that. He didn’t think he’d see his life flash before his eyes a  _second_ time.

They got to Claire’s house in record time, and  _somehow_ in one piece, Claire being the first to book it to the door, NotEnrique on her shoulder.

Well… the door _way_.

The door itself had been ripped off its hinges. Claire shielded NotEnrique with her arm, squinting at the massive dark vortex devouring her living room floors.

“Where’s Enrique?! My Parents?!”

“Safe!” NotEnrique shouted over the roar of the portal, “They got the kid and scrammed when it started openin’ up!”

Jim and Toby shouted for Claire, running over and holding on for physical support. Jim drew his sword, jamming it in the doorway so they wouldn’t get sucked in…. for as long as the walls would hold.

“How do we stop it?!” Barbara shouted, staying protectively close to the kids despite the strong pull of the portal.

Jim tried to look for an answer, some sort of solution they were missing - then he heard it.

The familiar roar that still would creep its way into his haunting dreams when he’d least expect it. There was no mistaking that noise.

A Nyarlagroth.

After that, Jim didn’t know what happened. He was suddenly smothered by memories of the Darklands, struggling to survive, fighting for his life each day, nearly  _starving_ -

His mind was fog. The noise of the portal was gone. The feeling of his loved ones near him, gone. All that surrounded him now was those cursed memories.

Those…

“Jim!  _Jim!!!_ ”

Sunlight. He saw the sunlight. 

He also saw his friends and mother, standing above him with worry all over their faces. They were above- wait, when did he get on the  _ground?_

“The Dark…lands…” Jim’s eyes went wide, and he jolted right up. “The Darklands! The portal! It-!”

“It's  _okay_ , Jim!” Barbara reassured him, pulling him into a careful hug, “It’s okay… the portal disappeared on its own…”

He was shaking. He wanted to return the hug, but couldn’t even lift his arms. “The Darklands, it… It led into the  _Darklands_ , not the Shadow Realm… Why…?”

“We got here as fast as we could!” Enter Blinky atop Aaarrrgghh, followed by the others, moving beneath the archways. “These things are  _not_ convenient for getting around in a rush- Is Master Jim okay?!”

“I think he’s alright,” Barbara said, brushing the bangs out of her son’s face, “It looked like a panic attack…”

Blinky approached with care, a pair of arms helping to pick them up. “Come, come. Aaarrrgghh can carry him.”

Jim felt the strong but gentle arms of Aaarrrgghh lift him up. “I’m-I’m okay, really…” He insisted, but nobody was convinced.

“I help.” Aaarrrgghh insisted in turn. 

Well… no point in arguing. Jim just sighed, closing his eyes as he was carried. 

More  _portals_  they have to deal with… This is going to be  _far_ more complicated than they bargained for, isn’t it…

 

 

Angor Rot wasn’t familiar with the term “panic attack”, but it… didn’t sound that great. Something inside him made what almost felt like a glimmer of  _concern_ for the boy, but that was washed away quickly when he turned out to be fine not much later. What was  _really_ worrying to the group was this ‘portal’ business. But only so much can be done in a day. 

Only so much can be done in general. Some things are out of their control. But they just can’t accept that, can they.

Their determination did not falter as the days passed. It only seemed to grow stronger.

Though, due to recent developments, the Trollhunters would have to reinstate the 'stick Dictatious with Angor Rot’ plan.

Rather abruptly.

It’s too bad Dictatious wasn’t passed on that information. As far as  _he_ knew, he was supposed to meet with the Domzalski child downstairs this morning, to go to Trollmarket and discuss and more research about the Darklands, something like that. So,  _naturally_ , the first thing he did when he got up that morning was look for Toby.

 _Metaphorically_ look, anyway. He mostly just ended up stumbling around until he found his way to the kitchen, where he could make out a blob that was  _probably_ a person. Was it a little taller than Toby sized? Maybe. Might be Jim. Who knows, a person’s a person, this seemed like the only one in the house right now, so they probably knew what was supposed to happen anyways.

It was probably Jim. It sounded like he was grinding something metal against something else? Kind of strange, but whatever.

Naturally, Dictatious went right up to the person, and like he usually would, places a hand on their arm for guidance. “Alright then,” He said like nothing was out of the ordinary, “Let’s be off.”

The figure went still. Dictatious looked at them in confusion as to why they weren’t getting on their way. “… Well?”

**“Why is your hand on my arm?”**

_By Gunmar’s blade, that’s not one of the kids–!_

‘Grace’ wasn’t a word that came to mind when Dictatious jolted away from the larger troll in his shock and smacking  _directly_  into the table, falling over. Angor stared, stone-faced, at the ordeal.

“You…” Dictatious muttered, picking himself back up, “… are  _not_ the Trollhunter…”

 **“You don’t say.”**  Angor’s voice, flooded with sarcasm, replied. He returned his attention to the totem carving in his hand, picking away at it with his knife.  **“There has been a change of plan. The Trollhunter and his friends got word of more portal activity, both at the girl’s house and in the woods.”**

They probably would’ve been fine with Angor coming with them, honestly, but if Angor wasn’t lying, he had to admit that being around that last portal made him feel sick.  _Anything_ to do with Morgana right now made him feel sick… whether that was all just in his head or not, who knows, but admitting such things wasn’t a necessity right now. He just wouldn’t go around jumping at the opportunity to go poking around in those witch vortexes, is all… even if that  _did_ mean having to deal with this blind Galadrigal instead.

The smaller troll’s ears twitched down a touch. “… Oh.” He said, tone of voice strangely dampered upon hearing this development, but he quickly brushed it off. He shrugged and headed to the living room. “CSI marathon it is, then.”

Angor raised an eyebrow at Dictatious. If he wasn’t mistaken, the other had almost sounded  _disappointed_ for a second there. 

It wouldn’t be surprising. It’s not like he can go outside on his  _own_ , what with the risk of accidentally walking into sunlight or getting hit by a car. From what Angor’s heard and pieced together, he could guess Dictatious doesn’t get many chances to get out of the house.

The assassin could imagine how so much of that would make someone restless over time.

 **“I don’t have a Horngazel…"** Angor spoke up after blowing some dust off his totem, catching Dictatious’s attention,  **”… but there’s still much of Arcadia that’s been changed I’m curious to see.“**

Dictatious’s ears perked up again, definitely interested, but he was….  _skeptical_ of the 'company’.

Well, he  _did_ agree, however reluctantly, to keep an 'eye’ on Angor Rot when the others couldn’t.  _Why_ did he agree to that, again? 

 **"Unless,”**  Eye flicking to the irresolute Dictatious, he pocketed the carving,  **“you _prefer_ staying here.”**

… You know what. Might as well take the opportunity while it’s there. Dictatious could really use the change of scenery.

…. Pun not intended…..

 

 

Being out and about was a good idea. Turns out, this was a good way to get Angor Rot started on learning some things, too. Nice bonus.

Strickler may have brushed Angor up on some human basics (like electricity and school systems) the first time Angor was awakened here, but it was nowhere near enough to have much of an idea of what’s going on when you’re not solely focused on just trying to kill people. Who knew.

For someone who’d been spending most of his time here cooped up in a house, Dictatious actually knew a great deal about how human culture’s evolved, among other things - he could chock that up to his curious mind, constantly asking Nana Domzalski questions about anything he wanted to understand better, and whatever she couldn’t answer, Toby usually could, plus there were all sorts of interesting educational channels and news networks on the TV that he could learn from. He found it all quite interesting.

Of course, it wouldn’t make sense to overload Angor’s mind with unnecessary details, so he stuck to the basics. Explaining their simpler customs, beliefs, laws, things like that. 

Mostly, Angor just listened quietly, asking short questions here and there, but mostly just focusing on trying to make sense of everything. Also, looking around at the changes to Arcadia.

With all these new archways, it would be easy for both trolls and people to wander the streets during daylight. Much of it was still under construction though – there was strange machinery everywhere, along with chunks of ripped out cement and things of a similar sort.

 **“It is surprising,”**  Angor mused,  **“how quickly these humans have accepted coexisting with Trollkind.”**

Dictatious gave a short laugh at that. “Oh, believe me. There are  _many_ humans that are not happy about it." He made a vague gesture with one hand. "Arcadia has been most tolerable of our kind so far, if only because Trollmarket saved them from the Gumm-Gumms and Pale Lady at the Battle of Eternal Night, but even many of the people  _here_ don’t exactly… 'like’ us.”

Now that Dictatious mentioned it, Angor was starting to notice some strange looks from a few of the passing humans. He hadn’t been paying attention to that before with everything else he was trying to keep up with, but two teen boys in particular he could swear had been following them for a while… He took mental note of them, but ignored them for the time being.

**“So, you are lucky to have participated, then.”**

“What do you mean?”

 **“In the Battle of the Eternal Night.”** Angor blinked, glancing down at Dictatious.  **“Because you were a Gumm-Gumm. You earned their trust through battle, yes?”**

“What?” That got Angor a funny look from the smaller troll. “ _I_ didn’t participate in that battle.”

**“…. What.”**

Is he  _kidding?_  “Look at me! I can’t  _fight_!” Dictatious was surprised he even had to explain that.

And Angor sounded surprised when he spoke again.  **“You cannot _fight_?”**  He repeated.  **“You _hid_  from the battle?”**

“….  _Obviously_?”

By Deya’s name. If he was confused about the level of trust the Trollhunters dish out to ex-enemies before, then he was downright stunned by it now. He didn’t even help those who saved him in battle? Scratch that, he  _can’t even fight?_ What  _can_  they rely on him for?

“Are you still coming?” asked Dictatious, stopped to wait for him so he could to know where to go.

Silent he was for a good few seconds there, but Angor decided to let this topic rest.

For now.

They continued on their way.

“As I was saying… There’s not much in the way of trust between our species outside of Arcadia. Many humans think of us as dangerous.“ Dictatious continued, "but they had - well,  _still_  have - too little information to be able to make any sort of concrete decision about it. Accepting that there’s been whole other civilizations living just beneath their feet has been an ordeal in and of itself. But keeping our worlds separate is  _far_ out the window now.”

**“'Out the window’?”**

“Ah. Human expression. It means there’s no chance of that happening anymore.” Explained the other. “The Battle of Eternal Night might have been limited to Arcadia, but it wasn’t long at all before other humans knew of it. Can’t exactly hide a massive unexplained eclipse from the rest of the world. Plus, many of Arcadia’s residents recorded pieces of the battle and posted them online.” He paused, almost  _feeling_ the confusion coming off Angor Rot, and elaborated, “It’s like… The moving images on that television set you saw the other day, except of  _real_ events. The humans shared recordings of the battle with others of their species across the world using a thing called the 'Internet’.” Now he could get back on track. "There was a large uproar about it. Humans didn’t even realize we existed, then  _that_ happened - I’m sure you can understand why there might be some tribulation about all this.“

 **"Hm…”**  Well, alright… Angor supposed that made sense…  **“And they haven’t made attempts to attack yet?”**

“Well…. against  _trolls?_  No. Most other colonies have been staying out of sight for now until things smooth over, and Trollmarket’s residents have had some leeway due to their services against the Gumm-Gumms.” But, well…. “It was Changelings that got the worst of mankind’s shock. Their familiars were all removed from the Darklands at once, blowing their cover - most of them got away with no more than a few wounds, but there were still deaths among them.”

That, Angor found somewhat surprising.  **“Trained Changelings, felled at the hands of small fleshbags?”**

“Startle a small fleshbag with a  _gun_  badly enough,” Dictatious said matter-of-factly, “and  _nobody's_ likely to get out of the situation unscathed.”

Human architecture isn’t the only thing that’s advanced over the years. Their weaponry has, too. It would be wise to remember that.

“Fortunately for them, bonds they’ve formed and positions they’ve earned gave them some level of trust among certain humans. Many Changelings were stationed in important human positions, after all. But still, they too are very mistrusted.” As was only fair. It’s not like they  _kidnapped and replaced human children_  or anything. “Though, they are the best suited for handling human intervention, as they are most familiar with both troll and human culture. Despite how both our species treat them, Changelings have become significantly important in dealing with matters of diplomacy lately-”

“Heyy,  _there_ you two are!”

 _Speaking_  of Changelings…

They both turned at the voice of NotEnrique catching up to them. He chuckled, quickly pulling out his phone and commenting to himself, “Guess I better let those kids know I found ye, they’re prob'ly freakin’ right out…”

“What do you want, imp.” Dictatious said flatly, following up with, “and what do you mean 'found us’? We weren’t aware anyone was  _looking_.”

“Yeah, I  _gathered_ that.” NotEnrique replied, sending a message in his group chat with the kids, “Them Trollhunters wanted me to check up on ye, what with all this weird magic stuff goin’ on.” His mischievous yellow eyes glanced up at them, “Jimmy boy had a lil’ bit of a panic when I called 'em to say ya weren’t at the house. Almost came lookin’ for ya himself. But all’s good now, eh?”

… Oops. It didn’t occur to them that leaving a  _note_  or something might’ve been a good idea. 

“Ahem…” Dictatious cleared his throat, brushing that little oversight under the rug, “Well if that’s  _all_ -“

“Actually…” NotEnrique interrupted again, “Ol’ Blink also wanted me to tell ye that he wants to talk to ye when y'both get the chance.”

At that, Dictatious’s ears flattened back in annoyance. His eyes may be borderline useless, but they were still good for rolling. “You can tell  _Blinkous_ ,” he snapped, “that the soonest I plan on talking to  _him_ again is in the  _afterlife_.”

“…… Uhhhhh….. Okay. Not gonna ask.” Not gonna touch  _that_ can of worms with a ten foot pole, to be exact…

… Anyway, since things are awkward now… that’s NotEnrique’s cue. “Welp! I’m off, then!" 

Angor watched the little Changeling jump off, his mission having been done with, and then looked at Dictatious.  **"You are still on bad terms with your kin?”**

Dictatious scoffed. “No kin of mine would be so idiotic as to  _burn_ so much precious research.”

There it was, a small hum noise from Angor that made it sound like Dictatious’s logic was in question. Dictatious gave him a cross stare, of which Angor knew he’d have to speak his thoughts to get through the other’s thick head.

 **“Interesting that you should be the one holding a grudge,”**  The assassin mused,  **“since the way I hear it, _you_  were the one trying to take  _his_  life.”**

For a second time, Dictatious had scoffed. “He didn’t have to take it out on my  _books_. He’s already left me like  _this_ , so… so  _useless_!”

 **“You should consider yourself lucky. I know many trolls who would have done _far_  worse to you at that kind of betrayal.”** With a darker tone of voice, he added,  **“If it had been _me_  in your brother’s place, you would have lost  _far_  more than your eyesight and some old books.”**

Well that’s… unnerving. 

Third scoff. “And why do  _you_ care about what happens between my brother and I?”

Angor shrugged.  **“I don’t. I just find it interesting, is all. Rare to see a troll willing to take family back that would try to kill them.”**

… It…

It  _is_ rare, isn’t it….

…  _Wait a second_ , is he actually taking this  _seriously_? It doesn’t  _matter_. Blinky would never kill him anyways. He didn’t have the  _guts_ to do it himself. Isn’t the fact that he let Dictatious back  _proof_  of that?

… On the other hand… if Blinky  _really_  wanted him dead… wouldn’t he have just given him up to those goblins…?

Blinky  _did_  save him… he didn’t  _have_  to do that, but he… did.

After realizing he’d been silent in his thought and Angor was probably giving him some sort of questionless  _look_ , Dictatious snorted. “Oh, what of it.” He said bitterly. “There’s no consequence in my choice not to talk.”

 **“You never know. The soonest you ever speak to him again may _be_ in the afterlife." **He shrugged again.  **"With him working so closely to these portals the Pale Lady seems to be creating, who knows if he’ll even survive the day.”**

 _That_.

That very statement gave Dictatious a strong feeling he hadn’t expected to feel for his brother any time soon past all the anger.

Apprehension.  _Fear_. It hit him like a car out of nowhere, pulled at him so suddenly and so  _so_ powerfully.

Blinky could  _die_ today. The same troll that he had basically raised from a whelp, the same troll who spared his life, even  _saved_  it, the only actual family Dictatious has  _actually_   _got_ , just…  _gone_.

And what’s the last conversation they’d have had? A stupid  _fight_?

“Don’t- Don’t be ridiculous.” Dictatious rigidly avoided eye contact. “Blinkous won’t  _die_.”

 **“You don’t know that.”** Angor Rot  _then_  added, **“But I suppose you wouldn’t be one to _care_ ,**  **since you almost put him in the afterlife _yourself_.”**

“No, that-“ Through gritted teeth, here Dictatious was, still trying to justify himself despite everything. “That… was  _circumstantial_ -“

 **“No, _that_ …”** Angor corrected,  **“was the act of a _traitor_.”**

… Denying it was pointless.

But admitting it was something Dictatious refused to do. So he stayed silent.

Didn’t matter to Angor. He’s not the one emotionally invested in this mess. He just knows he’s got a  _point_  that this stubborn troll should hear.

 **“The sun is setting."** Angor Rot pointed out.  **"We should return.”**

 

 

At Claire’s house, a group of somewhat panicked trolls and teens were finally set at ease with a text from NotEnrique.

“He found them,” Jim sighed in relief. “They’re fine.”

 _That_  would’ve been a mess, the two of them getting into trouble only the very second time they’re left alone together. 

“ _That's_ a relief…” Claire agreed, “but we’re still no closer to figuring out what these portals mean!”

There had been a small one just moments earlier, enough to make someone nervous, but seemingly not dangerous. It disappeared as quickly as it had come. Just in case, Claire’s family would be staying at the Lake household for the time being. They had lots of extra space now, what with the new wing they had built to house Changeling familiars until families were found for them. 

“There has to be something we’re missing, some sort of  _connection_ between Claire’s house and the woods that we’re not seeing…” Blinky rambled, writing furiously on the scribble-covered paper he had plastered all over the table, walls, and floors, "Think, Blinkous,  _think_ …“

"I hope we figure it out fast.” Claire said. “It was bad enough the first time my house was infested with portals, I don’t need that again.”

On the side, Toby had been entertaining Aaarrrgghh, who had grown mentally tired from all this, with some magic. When Claire said  _that_ , however, Toby had a granddaddy of an epiphany. 

_I remembered that spot being where you guys were doing weird dark magic portal stuff with all those boxes._

_It was bad enough the first time my house was infested with portals._

Portals. It’s the portals from  _before!_

Everyone looked Toby's way when he made the loudest gasp of realization. “ _Guuuuuuyyyyyys!_  I  _got_ it!” He jumped down from his spot, ecstatic. “Think about it! What does Claire’s house, that  _specific_ part of the woods, and the  _Shadow Realm_  all have in common?”

It took them a second, but it finally dawned on Blinky and Claire.

“Of  _course_!” Blinky exclaimed. “The answer was right in  _front_ of us!”

“How did we miss that?!” Claire added.

“Um. I’m still confused.” Said Jim.

Toby turned to him with excitement of this revelation ready to share. “Dude!” He said, “That’s the spot in the woods where we portalled all the Killahead Bridge pieces!”

Finally it dawned on Jim too, a third 'oh!’ of realization sounding off when he thought of all the portals that had to be opened here when Morgana was possessing Claire. “So the connection is that they’re both places where the Shadow Staff was used a bunch! What you’re saying is, somehow She’s… She’s using the energy or something from those last portals to break through  _now_?”

“Theoretically,” Blinky started, sketching as he talked, “The power at which those last portals were generated was enough to tear a sort of  _rift_ between realms - ones that Morgana’s using  _now_ to make these new ones.”

“But why,” Jim interrupted, “did that big one lead to the  _Darklands_?”

The others all exchanged looks. 

“Jim…” Claire said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “No one doubts that… that you thought you heard  _something_ , but-”

“I did! It was a Nyalgaroth, I  _know_ it!” Jim insisted. “I  _know_  what I heard!”

“ _I_  believe you,” Toby said with a pat to his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, okay Jimbo? We always do!”

“Yes… But first, we have to work with what we do know. Former portal locations are rift points that Morgana’s trying to punch through. We should monitor them closely, and write up a list of other places the staff has been used often, Claire.”

“I can also ask Angor about that.” Said Jim.

“Gyre,” Aaarrrgghh suggested, the mention of the place a source of nervousness for them all, especially Claire.

“Yes, we should especially check there.” Agreed their four-armed friend. “Now then-”

“Uhh…. Blink?” Toby piped up, “NotEnrique passed on your message too, and… well…”

Rather than pass the message along, he felt it was better to just show Blinky, turning his phone to the troll.

What greeted him was a not-so-kindly worded message from his brother. NotEnrique was sure to send a follow-up text of ‘His words, not mine!’

Blinky sighed deeply with annoyance and a trace of disappointment.

Jim had checked the chat as well, with a frown aimed Blinky’s way. “Still haven’t sorted things out with the guy, huh…?”

“Well, it’d be a lot  _easier_  if he weren’t avoiding me like the  _bubonic plague_!” The exasperated Blinky said. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in his frustration. “If he’s going to be stubborn, then  _fine_. I’m more worried about the problems at hand right now. Can we just stay focused on that?”

“… Okay…”

Blinky would talk to him, whether Dictatious liked it or not. His brother can’t ignore him forever.

But their first order of business was getting to that Gyre station.

 

 

It was almost nightfall by the time Dictatious and Angor Rot got back to Toby’s house. Stars had started to peek out from behind the trees, the faint songs of crickets creeping their way through bushes and leaves- But, they did not go inside the house right away - Angor had other plans.

“Where exactly are you going?” Dictatious said, wondering why they were walking around the giant mass that he was  _pretty sure_  was the house. “Is that not the house just there?”

 **“We’re not going inside yet."** Angor said, leading him around to the backyard.  **"There is something that needs to be taken care of.”**

“And what, pray tell, might  _that_  be?” Dictatious asked flatly.

**“To put it bluntly? _You_.”**

Dictatious squinted. “… Is… that a threat?”

The hint of worry in his question was almost amusing to Angor.

 **“You cannot _fight_.”**  Angor said up-front.  **“That won’t be acceptable. You must learn.”**

At that Dictatious laughed.

Angor didn’t.

“… You're  _serious?_ ” Shocked, Dictatious gestured to himself. “Have you  _seen_ me?! I  _can't_ fight!”

**“Can’t or won’t?"**

"Oh  _my apologies_ , perhaps I wasn’t being  _clear.._.” Then Dictatious shouted. “I AM _BLIND!_  What do you expect me to do,  _bump into people_   _until they’re dead?!_ ”

Angor snorted, stepping forward.  **“You are using your disability as an _excuse_.”**  He snapped coldly.  **“If I am to be stuck with you for the time being, then you are going to learn how to defend yourself. We are up against an unpredictable enemy, and there will not always be someone there for you to _hide behind_.”**

Scoffing, Dictatious snapped back, “ _Sure, sure,_  because I would  _definitely_ be able to fight off the Pale Lady myself. No flaws in  _that_ logic.”

 **“She has a way of collecting followers in unlikely places.”**  Angor said, beginning to circle Dictatious.  **“You can never be sure when danger will strike. Even with the threats of Her return aside, a troll should always know how to defend themselves. You _did_ know how to defend yourself when you could see, did you not?”** Narrowing his eye, he continued,  **“Or did you hide behind Gunmar and his servants like you hide now?”**

“I was an  _adviser_ to him! I’m a  _thinker_ , not a fighter!”

**“A _thinker_ , you say? Well then…”**

The sharp, threatening noise of a knife being drawn from its sheath grated against Dictatious’s ears.

**“Think fast.”**

“What are you-”

He made a startled yelp when he was suddenly knocked off his feet. Dic scrambled to get back up, panicked now. “ _What was that for?!_ ”

Angor’s voice rumbled from a distance away. Dictatious tried to follow its changing directions as he spoke.  **“Land a hit on me.”**  He demanded,  **“Show me you’re not _completely_ helpless.”**

Oh, as you command, Great One, why don’t we  _whip up some fairy dust and make Aaarrrgghh fly while we’re at it–_

Dictatious’s bitter thought process was cut short by another sharp blow from Angor Rot, knocking him back. Again and again, the assassin shot by him like a bullet, landing non-lethal hits in an attempt to fire Dictatious up.

He did not even  _try_ to fight back. He was more active about trying to dodge, Angor would give him that, but he couldn’t even do  _that_  right.

This is going to take a lot of work.

 **“Four arms, and you cannot even throw one punch?”**  Angor gibed, knife twirling in his hand.

Dictatious was already short of breath, though that was mostly out of panic than actual exhaustion. "You expect the  _impossible_ of me! Nothing fruitful will come of this, you're  _wasting your time-_ “

It didn’t surprise Dictatious when he was again cut off by an attack. The smaller troll yelped as he just managed to duck out of the way of Angor’s swinging blade, though not without the loss of a few hairs on his head.

 **"You think _this_ is challenging?” **AngorRot growled, prowling closer,  **“This is _whelp’s play_. You should be handling this with  _ease_.”**

“Well I’m  _sorry_ , Angor Rot, but I don’t quite  _remember_  the last time I was asked to strike a mastered assassin while having no  _visual capabilities_!”

**_“Excuses.”_ **

Angor moved in for another hit, but his voice had tipped Dictatious off well in time for him to avoid it. That aside, he still failed to strike back.

“And what business is it of yours anyways?!” Dictatious barked in his irritation. “What does it matter to  _you_  if I can fight or not?!”

 **“If I am to be keeping company with you, as the Trollhunter _wishes_ …” **Angor said,  **“… then you’d best know how to carry your _own_  weight.”** He made another slash, which Dictatious managed to avoid.  **“I don’t plan on fighting for _two_  should we ever be caught in battle together.”**

Swing. Miss. Swing. Hit.

This pattern went on for ages. Angor may have had the patience for this sort of tedious process, but Dictatious had lost his. He had barely recovered from what felt like a hundredth blow, and when he heard Angor move in for another, he just snapped.

Making no more moves to fuel this foolish back-and-forth, Dictatious instead threw up his arms instinctively to protect himself.  _“STOP IT!”_ He finally shouted.

And Angor  _did_  stop. He stopped and stared down at the weak husk before him.

“I can't  _do_ it!” Dictatious snarled. He shook his head, voice falling with the weight of his frustration  "I  _cannot do_  what you ask of me…“

Departing from Angor’s chest was a low growl, dissatisfied with these results. His lone eye looked long upon the despondent troll with a kind of hollow pity one might give to a pathetic turtle turned on its back. 

 **”… We will continue this tomorrow.“**  Angor rumbled, the last words spoken between the two as he walked past Dictatious and to the house. 

He may have been Gunmar’s right hand, but he is a weak link. Far weaker than Angor could have imagined. Too weak, even, to admit foolish mistakes to his own kin. Whether or not that could be  _changed_  would remain to be seen.

Dictatious gritted his teeth in frustration as he heard Angor leave, similar thoughts going through his own head.

What hope was there for someone who seems so unwilling to change?

Where does change even  _start_  for him?

… Where did change start for his  _brother_ …?

 

 

_"Blinky! Wait up!”_

_Jim caught up to Blinky as he started climbing the crystal stairway, blue light illuminating each of the cavern’s features. Normally Blinky would welcome his company, but not right now._

_“Master Jim, please. I’m in no mood to talk.” Blinky said flatly. “Especially if it’s about Dictatious.”_

_“You sure?” Said Jim skeptically. “From my point of view, it really looks like you_ need _to talk about Dictatious.”_

_Maybe Jim was right, because it didn’t take a lot of prompting to get him to start ranting._

_“Can you believe him?!” Blinky exclaimed. “Tries to kill me, then goes around and gets mad that I defended myself! What kind of backwards nonsense is that?!” He went on. “Is he the one that spent centuries mourning, thinking the brother he loved and idolized was dead?! Is HE the one that had to deal with the utter betrayal thrown in his face like that?! NO!”_

_Jim nodded slowly as he listened, quiet for the most part. When Blinky broke from his ranting with a frustrated sigh, Jim took the opportunity to give his two cents. “Well, you are right…” Jim did agree, “… buuut… I can see why Dictatious is upset, too.”_

_“What?!” Blinky said in disbelief. “How does_ he _have any ground to be upset?!”_

 _“C'mon, Blinky. Those books, they were like… his_ life _, right? It’s already got to sting that he’ll never be able to write, or even read them anymore. Of course he’d want to preserve what he’s already accomplished, he’ll never be able to get it_ back _once he loses it. And, I mean, it’s not like those books have ever led us_ wrong _. I can see why he’d think it’s such a waste.”_

_“But he-!” Blinky sighed again in frustration._

_“Blink, you were_ right _to defend yourself and Aaarrrgghh. No one can argue that.” Jim said, a fact clear and true. “But just… try to see things from his perspective, too. It’s got to be hard on_ both _of you.” With insight going strong for him, he added, “And besides, something tells me this is about more than just books.”_

_It’s true. Blinky used the flare as self-defense. But who would enjoy living with the fact that you permanently blinded your brother?_

_"I know you miss him. The relationship you had before, and… he should be the one to apologize first, but… somebody has to be the bigger person, and I don’t think it’s going to be him.”_

_Another sigh. Blinky gave Jim a wistful smile. “Since when did you become the mature one between us?” He joked hollowly._

_“I learned from the best.” Jim smiled back, the both of them at least able to share a small laugh._

_“Come on, let’s head back.” Jim offered. “You can talk to Dictatious when you’re both ready.”_

 

 

The Gyre station showed no signs of anything out of the ordinary. It was devastated by the Eternal Night’s battles and earthquakes, just like most the rest of Trollmarket, but aside from that, everything seemed to be in order. It was quiet there. Almost… ominously so.

Toby’s suggestion was to leave some recording equipment there, to keep track of any strange activity that might show up, so that’s exactly what they did. What else  _was_  there to do?

Now, with all said and done in regards to portals today… It was time to take  _other_  matters into Blinky’s many hands…

 

 

It was the same door he and Aaarrrgghh had punched down at least twice before. Now, it seemed so  _daunting_.

The children had already gone into the house, but Blinky kept pacing outside for the longest time. Dictatious would be inside too, because… well, where  _else_ would he be?

…. What would Blinky  _say_  to him? That’s what he was trying so hard to formulate… Would he even be able to get his brother to  _listen_  to him?

Well… nothing ventured, nothing gained…

Blinky took a deep breath, and reached for the back door handle.

What he didn’t expect was for it to open before his hand even touched it. Much less expected was for him to see that the person now standing in the doorway was… his brother.

“Ah, Dictatious…!” Blinky started, surprised. “I was just going to search for you.”

“Likewise." 

Surprised, Blinky’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait…  _really_?”

Blinky stepped back to give his brother room as he shuffled out the door. “I heard you wanted to talk.” Dictatious said.

“Ah… well,  _yes_ …” Didn’t expect him to actually  _comply_ so quickly…  or, well, at  _all_ … “But where are you going?”

“Somewhere…” Dictatious’s ear twitched as he heard the teens inside laughing about something, “… quieter.”

 The two of them walked in silence down the streets until they came across a park bench, of which Blinky suggested they take a seat at.

Now the hardest part would be saying what needs to be said… Blinky struggled to find the right words…

Dictatious, oddly enough, seemed preoccupied with squinting at the sky instead.

“Are there stars out tonight?” He said suddenly before Blinky could ask what he was doing. “Can’t tell…” 

“Ah…” Blinky looked up too. “Yes, a few. Not very bright, though.”

“Hmm….”

That’s right, his brother hadn’t properly seen a night sky since before his banishment, hadn’t he… Staring up at those tiny glimmering lights and his brother, Blinky was reminded of an old memory. He chuckled. “You know, I remember way back when we were young whelps, you used to tell me that the stars were  _pixies_  that played dead to trick everyone on the ground.”

Dictatious snorted, a grin crossing his face at the memory. "You used to stare at the stars for  _hours_  every night, waiting for one to move. Went  _ballistic_  the first time you saw a shooting star.” Both of them laughed. "You were always so gullible, weren’t you? Didn’t you also believe me when I said it was possible to make  _Kairosects_  out of Gaggletacks?”

“Ha! Vendel had to drag me away from Rot-Gut’s more than once!” Blinky leaned back, more at ease now, still chuckling. “Ohh yes, you were  _always_  telling me falsities. How about that time you told me a bottle of Haggleroot Elixer was  _Glug_?”

Now  _that_  got Dictatious bursting out with laughter. “I didn’t- I didn’t th-think you'd  _actually drink_ -” He broke down into a fit of giggles so bad he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Oh suuuure, it was  _so_  funny.” Blinky said in jest. “I had the voice of a Gnome for a  _month_!”

At this point Dictatious was laughing so hard he started tearing up. "That’s- That’s what m- _made_  it so  _f-funny!“_  

Blinky couldn’t help but join in on the laughter again. Looking back, it  _was_  pretty funny.

So far, things were going well. Far better than Blinky ever expected they would.

When they both calmed down, things were quiet for a moment.

”… So…“ Dictatious spoke up. "I assume you weren’t seeking me out only to reminisce about old times.”

Blinky sighed. “No… No, I didn’t.” He shook his head.

He didn’t come here just to talk about their fight in the library either.

“… There’s so much I want to say to you, Dictatious. So much I don’t understand, about your choices, about our relationship, I just… What  _happened_ , Dictatious?” Blinky gave his brother an aching look. “I’d looked up to you my whole  _life_ , and when I thought I  _lost_  you, I…” He looked away. “… I just don’t understand how you could’ve turned to the side of Gumm-Gumms, how it was so easy for you to just…” his voice was but a whisper with his last two words, “…  _leave_ me…”

“That’s not true.”

Again, Blinky looked to his brother, this time blank-faced.

Dictatious was quiet for a long while. Then, it was his turn to sigh. “It  _wasn't_ that easy, Blinkous. The first few years of banishment, I often found myself wondering how you were, if you were still even  _alive_ , and… happy.” He fell quiet. “… Out of all the regrets I could’ve had back then about my decision, my only one was that I had left you alone.”

“It  _was?_ ” Blinky sounded more than just skeptical, he was in downright disbelief. “But in the Darklands, you-!”

“I know, I know.” Dictatious cut him off, sighing again. “Those thoughts, they didn’t stay with me long. Such personal connections held me down, kept me from dedicating my thoughts and energy to Gunmar’s cause, it…” He paused, then chuckled weakly. “Ha… not that it matters now.”

There’s still so much Blinky doesn’t understand about these choices. Did he really believe Gunmar was Trollkind’s salvation. Does any part of him  _miss_  his place in the Underlord’s ranks? What on earth was going through his  _head_? He couldn’t even bring himself to ask those questions, for fear of knowing the answer. Blinky looked away.

“… Gunmar was the only thing I had in the Darklands, Blinkous.” Dictatious continued, his voice rigid, determined to keep a strong hold on all his twisted justifications of his actions. "To disrespect him by letting such menial concerns hold me down, it would have been an insult. I… I suppose, somewhere along the line, I started to think of _you_ as an insult. To everything I stood for.“ He scoffed, but mostly at himself this time. "You were loyal to your cause, and I was loyal to mine. I suppose that’s all it really boils down to.”

“It’s not…” Blinky stopped that thought in its tracked and sighed. It  _was_ that simple to him, wasn’t it… “ _Why_ , Dictatious…? Why would you follow  _him_ …? The brother I knew wouldn’t have-”

“Blinkous, can we just…” Dictatious interrupted, sighing one more time. “… drop the politics for tonight. Lest we spoil the calm…”

Despite his lingering questions, that was a suggestion Blinky could get behind for tonight. He gave his brother’s shoulder a stiff pat.

Neither of them wanted to have to go through all this just to sully what had been an otherwise beneficial conversation with another fight.

Maybe Gunmar’s a discussion for another time, then.

The two went back to looking out among the sky, silent, but they actually found themselves just simply enjoying each other’s company for once.

“… I’m… sorry about your books, Dictatious.” Blinky said. Dictatious looked at him, expression hard to discern, as he continued. “I looked up to you, to all the amazing work you’d done, but when I saw you working for him…” Blinky sighed. “… I couldn’t see any of your work in the same way. Everything felt like such a… such a lie. I didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. I know it was rash of me, that decision I made, I was just so…  _angry_.”

Dictatious’s teeth clenched, then he shook his head and sighed. “It’s… a  _justified_ reaction, I suppose…. like you said, it’s not like I’m going to be reading them anymore…”

Blinky sighed too. One arm reached out to lightly pat the side of his brother’s face, frowning at the sight of those damaged eyes. “I won’t apologize for defending myself.” Blinky said, straightforward and simple. “You would have killed me. I did what I had to. But… I do wish there could’ve been a better way to resolve this…”

Dictatious turned away after a few moments. “… I know…” He muttered. 

They were greeted again by a stretch of silence, one they welcomed for a long time.

“… Well, I should be… getting back, to go over our findings from today before it gets too late…” Blinky said, getting up. “Coming?”

“Go ahead. I can find my own way back.” Dictatious said, continuing to stare out into the sky, as if it were a thing he could see with the clearness of working eyes. He’d prefer to stay out here for a while. It’s… surprisingly peaceful.

“Alright. I suppose I’ll see you whenever I see you.” Blinky said, turning away to head back and rambling as he left. “Busy days ahead. I think we’re getting closer to figuring out these infernal portals!”

“Blinkous?” Dictatious called over suddenly.

Blinky stopped, looking back. “Yes?”

“Be…” Dictatious hesitated, voice lowering. “… Be careful.”

That… came out of left field. Blinky raised an eyebrow, finding the sudden concern… odd… (he was furious just earlier today, now he's  _worried?_ ) but reassured him still. “I will.”

He went his own way.

Dictatious let out a breath, then looked back into the sky. For a second, he almost thought he could just barely see a star fall.

 

 

“Walt! Have you got the formulas ready?”

Feeding time was always hectic when you had 20+ babies to look after. Lucky for Walter and Barbara, many of the townspeople had offered to help out with the many infants that still hadn’t found their original families, so it’s still manageable… to some degree.

“More or less!” Strickler called back to Barbara from downstairs, a tray of bottles getting sorted by his practiced hands. He’s basically gotten the hang of it now - formula warmed just above room temperature, all bottles labelled correctly, organic brand for Krax and Gladys, since they’re allergic to the mainstream brand…

When he was sure he had everything in order, he carried the bottles upstairs to Barbara in one of the nursery rooms.

He opened the door to the sight of the radiant Dr. Lake, gently rocking a crying child back to calmness. She was an exquisite sight that Strickler loved more and more each time he saw her. When she heard him come in, she looked up and smiled.

“Why, thank you.” Barbara grinned, pecking Strickler on the cheek as she took the tray from him. “You’re getting quicker.”

“But of course. A professional in history?  _Please_! My true calling was mixing baby formula all along!” Strickler joked. Almost an instant later he started cooing and playing with one of the infants staring at him. Barbara smirked.

“And to think, you were worried you weren’t cut out for this.” She teased.

Strickler gave a small chuckle. “Well, when you’re handed a rock full of  _a thousand babies_  to handle…”

Barbara had just started feeding one of the babies when there was a sudden thumping coming from the front door. “Oh-” She hoisted the baby up, starting to head for the stairs, but Strickler beat her to it.

“Worry not, I can get it.” He offered, Barbara showing him a smile of gratitude as he headed downstairs.

Whoever was at the door seemed really impatient - the way they thumped on it almost sounded like they were ready to break it down. 

 _“Stricklander!”_  The voice outside called frantically. “Would you open up?! This is urgent!”

Was that…  _Zelda Nomura?_  Wasn’t she supposed to be catching a flight to New York for a conference? She  _is_  one of Arcadia’s main representatives after all…

He opened the door with a confused look on his face. “Nomura? What seems to be the problem?”

The magenta-coloured Changeling looked frantic. “Where’s my familiar?!” She demanded to know.

“Wh- Upstairs, obviously, it’s not like she could go anywhere  _else_ \- What's  _wrong?_ ”

“What’s wrong?!” Nomura shouted. “What's  _this?!_ ”

Strickler’s eyes went wide as he watched a familiar glow envelop his acquaintance, shifting her form from troll to human as naturally as a bird takes flight. His jaw dropped, unable to get any words out.

“I can’t  _see_  her, Walter! I’ve performed Glimpse after Glimpse but  _no matter what mirror I spit on_  can't  _see_ her!” Nomura pushed past him into the house, repeating, “Where is she?!”

This can’t be possible. With their familiars sharing the same realm as them now, this can’t be  _possible_ …

Thoughts of those portals that had been appearing in Arcadia suddenly invaded his mind. Thoughts of Jim, saying he suspected some of them to lead to the Darklands-

Oh Deya, no.

Now both of them were in a panic. Strickler immediately rushed back upstairs, Nomura following close behind.

He made Barbara jump when he burst back into the nursery. “Nomy! Where’s Nomy?!”

“Woah woah woah, where’s the fire?!” Barbara questioned. “You’ll freak out the kids!”

Strickler couldn’t focus on that right now. He was hectically checking each crib for Nomura’s familiar when Barbara stopped him. 

“Hey.” She said forcefully. “Nomy is right over there.” She pointed at a crib near the window, which… indeed held the child.

Both Strickler and Nomura walked over to her, confused. She was just fine. Sleeping soundly, in fact.

“She’s…  _fine_.” Strickler blankly observed. He looked at Nomura. “And you’re…?”

“Uhm… Just fine…” She answered, equally confused.

“Anyone mind telling me what’s going on?” Barbara asked, looking between the two of them with folded arms.

Strickler looked at Nomura, in her human flesh, no possible explanation coming to mind. Nomura struggled to find any sort of words.

“That’s what  _I’d_  like to know…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the info dump. i promise it all comes in handy!


	5. Potential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Angor Rot makes an interesting discovery about Dictatious. NotEnrique’s made a discovery too - that these two are INCREDIBLY fun to mess with.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's terrible at estimating how long chapters will be (HINT: IT'S YOURS TRULY)

"So let me get this straight..."

Jim was the first to speak in the living room full of confused humans, Changelings, and trolls alike. With this new "development" regarding Nomura, a meeting had to be called.

"The Heartstone's acting up, we've got portals opening and closing at random,  _and_ some Changelings can shift between their human and troll selves again?"

Everyone shared awkward stares, shrugs, and nods.

"That would be an accurate reading of the situation, yes." Blinky confirmed, Aaarrrgghh nodding solemnly in agreement.

Wonderful. What  _else_ can the universe throw at them? Jim inhaled deeply, then rubbed his temples. "Okay. Yeah. That's fine. This is fine." He lied to himself. " _Deeefinitely_ have this under control..."

Barbara took a look at the Changelings in the room, Nomura being the only one in human form at the moment. "And  _none_ of you can connect to your familiars like you usually do?"

"Appears that way. None of my Glimpses work." Confirmed Nomura.

"I've hooked a loogie at sis's mirror like three times now. Nothin'." NotEnrique said, Claire giving him a look after realizing  _that's_  why her mirror has been all gross and slimy today.

"It's called  _catoptromancy_." Strickler corrected. "It's a  _specific_ form of mirror divination that-"

"Hook a loogie." Nomura repeated over him. NotEnrique shot her some finger guns and an 'eeyyy'.

Merlin rolled his eyes. Why do these  _Changelings_ get taken seriously? "Obviously, this is the work of Morgana. The Changelings  _are_ Her creation, after all." He announced, looking around. "Who has been monitoring those portal locations?"

Toby was already pulling out a laptop as Merlin spoke. "I've got all of them livestreaming on here, on my computer at home, one down in Trollmarket...  _Trust me,_  If anything happens there, we'll know."

Jim looked to Angor. "And the map you and Claire worked out of all the locations the staff's been heavily used, you're  _sure_ it's accurate?"

 **"Within the borders of _Arcadia_ , yes."** Angor said, Claire spreading their work across the coffee table. Angor's eye pointed to the map, Jim following his stare. **"The Skathe-Hrün has been used all around your world over thousands of years. This map is as recent as my last summons."**  There was a glance between him and Strickler for a quick second, but it was just as quickly broken off. 

The next one to speak was Nomura, thought her calmer tone from before has been replaced with something more hostile as she glared at Angor Rot. "And we should take your word for that, should we?" She hissed. "Not  _conveniently_ leaving out any details that could lead to your Queen's escape?"

At that, Angor gave her a look formed out of confusion and annoyance. Jim spoke before he could, though.

"Cut him some slack, Nomura." Said the Trollhunter, "He's just trying to help."

Nomura snorted. "We need his help like a hole in the head." Looking away she added under her breath, but loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Or a  _knife_ to the  _chest_."

That was probably the quickest way to silence a room Nomura could've done.

You could  _hear_ Jim gritting his teeth in the silence.

Toby picked up on the tension just like everyone else, and he loudly cleared his throat, "Well hey, look at it  _this_ way..." He said, "I don't think we'd really have the  _money_ to plant security cams all over the world, sooo..."

"T.P.'s right." Claire was immediately on board with changing  _that_ topic. "Arcadia's pretty much all we  _can_ cover, anyway. Besides, I bet we'll hear about it if mysterious giant black vortexes start materializing in people's living rooms  _outside_ of Arcadia."

Both Toby and Claire looked to Jim, both out of concern  _and_  for backup. Jim was quiet for a long moment.

Tense.

"... I agree. Arcadia's been where everything happens anyways." He finally said, then looked at Toby. "How are they looking?"

"Mmmm..." Toby pressed a few keys, made a few clicks, and pulled up all their camera feeds. "Still nothing so far."

Jim took a slow breath in. "... Okay. Just... leave that computer for the people here to watch." He said. "We'll just keep doing what we can while we figure out how to stop them."

Nobody said anything when Jim got up and left the room.

Tension still hung heavy in the air, mostly between the subtle staring contest going on between Nomura and Angor.

"Ahem... Nomura..." Strickler spoke up, quite easily having picked up on the resentment between the two, "Perhaps now would be a good time to call your associates in New York to explain why you missed your flight."

Nomura held eye contact with the troll. Strickler almost thought she hadn't even heard him, until she spoke. "Yeah, yeah." She said, finally turning her head. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and patted Strickler on the shoulder while walking past him. A reassurance, of sorts, that she wouldn't start any trouble... or so her intention was, anyways.

When she left the room, Angor's gaze fell to Strickler. The Changeling awkwardly adjusted the collar of his sweater.

"I'll... get in contact with other members of the Janus Order to see how many other Changelings it's affected..." He said to Barbara before leaving, any excuse to get out of there being one Strickler would take. Barbara nodded and departed as well, probably to go check on Jim.

Angor Rot snorted, then looked to the remaining humans and trolls in the room, mainly Toby and Claire.  **"Is my presence still needed?"**

"Oh, uh-" Claire stuttered, "No no, you're... fine to go, I think..."

That being that, Angor was next to take his leave, frankly looking forward to spending some time away from this hectic group. That left Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, Merlin, Toby and Claire. Oh, and NotEnrique, who hopped up on his sister's shoulder.

"Well," The Changeling spoke up, "If  _that_ wasn't the most awkward meeting I ever seen in my life..."

Claire sighed. "You've got that right..." She agreed. It's not like anybody could  _help_ all the high-running tension around here. Everything about  _everything_  is stressful and complicated.

Well, that's not really true.  _Some_ people could try being a little more civil. At this point Claire was just wishing to see a bed soon.

"NotEnrique, why don't you try turning human?" Claire said, then added a laugh. "Enrique could have a twin!"

"Ehh, I'm good, kid." NotEnrique replied, smirking. "I  _like_ having good motor functioning skills."

"Well..." Merlin spoke next, tiring of the ever-growing pointlessness of this conversation, and Blinky rolling his eyes at the voice he found so annoying. "If everyone is taking their leave now, I have other matters to attend to."

"Such as?" Blinky asked, squinting suspiciously at the wizard as he walked towards the back door.

Paying Blinky's cynicism no mind, Merlin just said, "I want to see these 'portal' locations myself. Following a... 'hunch', you could say."

"What hunch?" The curious Aaarrrgghh asked while cocking his head to the side.

Merlin only chuckled, looking back at them all once more just before leaving the house. "I'll let you know once I see how it goes."

The group watched him go, Blinky rolling his eyes again at the wizard's vagueness this time. "Oh sure, tell us later, it's not like this is _gravely important information_  we're working with here..." He muttered after Merlin left.

"If he checks out  _our_  house, he better not go into my room." Claire squinted. She then looked at Toby, who'd been unusually quiet for a while there. 

Toby's attention was shifted elsewhere. Namely, looking off in the direction Jim went. Claire followed his stare.

"... D'you think he's okay...?" Toby said, his voice quieter than before.

Claire bit her lip. "... Yeah... Yeah, I think he's just..." She paused. "... stressed..."

A relatable feeling, to be sure. Toby looked down at his laptop screen again. "Yeah..."

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh exchanged looks with each other. Blinky then walked over to where they were sitting and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "It's been another long day for you all." He said. "It's best you get another decent rest. Deya knows the days will only get longer."

Toby sighed, but, he did spot a moment to lighten the mood again. Putting a cheeky smile on his face, he said, "This coming from the guy that slept eight minutes a day when  _you_ were human?"

Claire snorted at that, and Blinky looked  _so_ offended, scoffing, "Well excuse me, Tobias, I did not have much experience in your species’ fleshy body before!"

"You can say  _that_ again!" NotEnrique piped up, grinning like a little devil. "For future reference, yer human body ain't goin'ta survive off of straight  _whipped cream!_ "

"Hopefully I won't  _need_ a future reference!" Blinky shot back. "I'm not planning on picking up any more cursed artifacts, thank you!"

At this point they were all getting a good chuckle out of it.

"Well, if it's all the same with you guys..." Claire yawned, giving her arms a good stretch, "... I  _definitely_ will be needing more than eight minutes of sleep."

"I feel ya, sister." Agreed the Changeling on her shoulder, and Toby nodded too, but then he gasped. 

"Oh, but I should stay and keep an eye on the livestreams-" He started to say, but Blinky spoke up instead.

"Worry not, young Tobias, Aaarrrgghh and I will take turns watching them for tonight." Blinky assured him, a soft smile on his face. "You three go, get your sleep."

Claire and Toby said their 'Thank-you's, Toby exchanging a fist bump with Aaaarrrgghh as they passed each other, and went off to prepare themselves for  _ages_  of sleep.

Blinky waved them off, then his attention turned to the computer. "Now then..." He said, sitting down at the couch and squinting all six eyes at the screen, "Let us see what tonight brings us..."

  
  


But what the night brought them, was another night of dead silence in the area of portal activity. Not a sound, not even a flicker of shadowy magic formed on any of the screens.

When they first got back to Arcadia, fearsome vortexes were popping up like crazy.  _Now_... there's been next to  _nothing_.

Whether that was a good sign or a bad one, nobody could be sure.

 

 

Many thick, grey clouds brewed in the sky this morning, blotching out even the strongest rays of sun. It was enough, even, for a troll to wander freely.

Perfect for training. 

"If this going to be another waste of time like  _last time_..." Dictatious grumbled, reluctant as he followed Angor Rot to the backyard, "... then I'm going back to bed."

Angor rolled his eye at the other's complaints. Those, he hopes will stay to a minimum today.  **"It will not be like last time,"**  He assured Dictatious. He led him out into the yard, then stepped away. **"but, that ordeal was anything but a waste."**

"Were you even  _watching_?" Dictatious grumpily huffed, crossing one set of arms.

 **"Yes. Closely."**  Angor started to circle him. Dictatious, unnerved by the familiar action, tried to follow the other's movements through squinting eyes.  **"It brought to my attention two things."**

"And what might those things be."

 **"Firstly, you crumble under pressure."**  Angor explained. **"You _had_ been improving yesterday, even if it was only in minute proportions. But you still ended up giving in."**

"Well, if you would consider that I maybe,  _just_ maybe, I don't appreciate being used as a  _punching bag-_ "

Angor snorted.  **"You must be a clever troll, to have made your way up so high in Gunmar's ranks with such a _lack_  in combat ability."**

 _That_  brought a bite to Dictatious’s voice. "There are more ways to be valuable than just  _brute force_."

Angor seemed to have hit a nerve. Maybe that shouldn’t have brought such a smirk to his face, but it mattered not, considering his sightless company. **"Oh, I know that very well."** He said. **"But it seemed 'brute force' was all Gunmar _knew_."**

Through narrowing eyes, Dictatious growled lowly, “He was  _more_  than that. You didn’t  _know_  him as I did.”

Angor’s eye narrowed right back at him.  **“You sound more defensive than I’d expect of someone who tried to _murder_  you.”**

Now, Dictatious’s eyes did a big roll. “You said there were  _two_  things you noticed about last time.” He said, clearly moving away from  _that_  subject. “Care to fill me in on the second part?”

Angor was dubiously silent for a good few moments, hardened look in his eye not going away.  **"… Secondly.”** He eventually continued, **“You still rely on your eyes. You were trying to follow my movements visually the whole time when you should have been utilizing your _other_ senses." **Then Angor raised an eyebrow.  **“And you’re doing it now, too.”**

Against that, Dictatious couldn't argue. Would that stop his bitterness? No, definitely not. But he did avert his gaze. "I've been using my eyes my  _whole life_. It's not exactly an  _easy_ habit to break." He huffed, rolling the aforementioned eyes again. "I'm  _sorry_ that's such an  _inconvenience_ to you."

 **"You have been blind for months. It's time for you to correct that habit."** Angor said. **"Close your eyes."**

Dictatious squinted, skepticism of his company showing through the fog in his pupils.

Angor gave a short sigh.  **"Even if this _was_ going to be combat training, your damaged vision wouldn't help you regardless."** He pointed out. **"Just close your eyes."**

Still seeming reluctant, but conceding with a sigh, Dictatious closed his eyes. "There. Happy?"

Angor rolled his eye, but was already growing used to ignoring this troll's salt-filled demeanour. 

**"What do you hear?"**

"You talking."

… How observant.

 **"Aside from that."**  Angor rumbled.

Dictatious frowned, annoyed, but his ears did perk up as he tried to listen for anything else. "I don't know...  _birds_ , I suppose?"

Angor raised a brow.  **"Just birds?"**

The smaller troll huffed in annoyance. Again, his ears twitched, trying to focus. "Well, there's..." He drawled... "... the wind, of course, and... I believe a neighbour's dog barking..."

Angor Rot nodded slowly, silently walking around Dictatious as he listed off the little auditory details he could notice. Though, there were a few short moments where Dictatious's eyes would peer open for a second or two, trying to keep "watch" of his less-than-trustworthy company, Angor figured. Unsurprisingly, it was in these moments that Dictatious would lose focus of the other noises around them. But aside from that, he was paying attention to detail fairly well.

 **"Do you see now how much of your surroundings you can distinguish with your ears alone?"**  Angor spoke up when Dictatious was running out of things to list. **"Notice how much you did not catch at first?"**

"I...  _suppose_..." Dictatious agreed, though halfheartedly. 

 **"Hearing, smell, touch, these are all things you will have to use in place of your eyes."**  Angor went on.  **"You need to make better use of them than you are, make them a second nature."**

What Angor said was reasonable enough. Dictatious remained leerily silent, though. That was fine by Angor - at least silence means he isn't getting any objections. **"And, Dictatious..."** He continued, **"... you're only slowing your progress down by continuing to try and rely on sight that you don't _have-"_**

 _"Okay!_  I  _get_  it!" Dictatious snapped at him. Seriously, they've been  _over_ this already. "Are you going to belittle me  _every_ time I fall on old instincts?!"

 **"No..."** Angor said, raising a brow, **"... I was going to make a suggestion."**

Dictatious's head tilted slightly to a mix of confusion and curiosity, his cloudy eyes squinting suspiciously.

Should he be  _worried_  about what Angor has in mind?

 

 

"Remind me again why I'm letting you do this."

Dictatious couldn't say he felt the most at ease, what with this  _particular_ troll tying things onto his face. 

 **"There will be no attacks today."**  Angor Rot replied, taking care in wrapping the blindfold around Dictatious's head.  **"I assure you."**

The smaller troll scoffed in response. "You say that as if I have  _any_ level of trust in you."

 **"Yet you are still here. Willingly."** Angor pointed out.  **"Think of it this way. If you find that I am lying about this, then at least you will know not to trust me in the future."**

"Oh wow." Dryly and sarcastically as ever, Dictatious scoffed again, "That's  _so_ comforting."

Angor brushed off the sarcasm, as he was sure would become the norm when spending time with this troll. He finished tying the blindfold and stepped back.  **"How is it?"**

"Well, it covers my eyes, if that's what you're wondering." Dictatious answered. "Congratulations, you've successfully blinded a blind troll.”

More sarcasm to brush off. Unsurprising.

**"Then, let's try this again."**

 

 

They were at it for longer than Dictatious thought necessary.  _‘What, was Angor expecting different results out of the same old soundscape every time? I’d just be listing off the same noises over and over again,’_  he’d thought to himself. 

Yet, that wasn’t the case.

Somehow, Angor managed to come up with new exercises each time. Lest that be altering their soundscape with little sorcery parlour tricks, identifying how close or far some noises are, things of that sort.

“Remembering to do all of this all the time feels like an impossible task…” Dictatious sighed.

 **"It just takes practice."**  Angor continued.  **"For now, let's-"**

" _'Ey_!"

Their attentions were caught by NotEnrique shouting at them from the kitchen window. 

"Unless ya wanna get sunned to death," The Changeling called over, "then get back inside, ya fruitloops! The forecast's sayin' the clouds're gonna clear!"

Dictatious snickered. "Well, looks like that puts a strain on your plans today." He said to Angor upon hearing this news.

Angor was quiet, thoughtful for a moment.  **"Hmm... Not necessarily."** He said, then looked to NotEnrique.  **"Should anyone ask of our whereabouts, we will be in town."**

"... Kay?" NotEnrique replied. He watched the two of them leave the yard, then went back inside, mumbling as he closed the window, "Weirdos..."

 

Also confused, but still following the other troll, Dictatious asked, "What exactly do you plan on getting accomplished in town that can't be done here?"

 **"There is much that can be accomplished with a change of environment."**  Angor pointed out.  **"Though, for today, we will keep things simple."**

 

 

And a simple task it was. Basically, all Angor wanted him to do was to keep pointing out auditory surroundings he noticed while they walked around. Dictatious almost would've thought he was joking, but he was quickly starting to note the fact that this troll has probably never joked even once in his life.

While there was nothing particularly exciting to note sound-wise, Dictatious had to admit that he was noticing a lot more about their surroundings as compared to the last time they roamed Arcadia's streets. Angor kept him talking, mostly about what he heard, but also if he noticed any smells or felt anything as they went on, lest it be exhaust from cars passing by, the slightest vibrations in the ground from passing cars or construction workers nearby, how much of passing conversations he could overhear from strangers, basically anything that moved or made noise, Angor wanted to hear it from him. When considering all these sensory details at once, it can almost be a little overwhelming... Maybe Angor had a point about all this "extra listening" talk.

 

 **"Where would you say we are now?"** Angor asked.

Three out of the four (now five) times Angor had Dictatious guess their location, he'd guessed incorrectly. Dictatious, at this point, was getting tired of this question. He sighed, but still took his time to try and focus.

It sounded like people were passing by behind them every so often, and there were for sure cars passing in front of them... seemed pretty close, too.

"... At a crosswalk?" Dictatious guessed.

 **"Correct."**  Angor confirmed. Making sure it was clear, he led Dictatious through the street. **"You have been doing well."**

"Beg your pardon?" Dictatious scoffed as he pulled up the blindfold for a bit. "Maybe it's  _your_ observational skills we should be testing."

 **"You think I'm wrong?"** Asked Angor. He added quickly,  **"Mind the curb,"**  as he led the other again onto a sidewalk.

"Well, there's a good example right there..." Dictatious muttered, carefully stepping over the ledge as Angor watched closely. He's already stumbled a number of times by now, would definitely have fallen had he lacked Angor's aid. It gets  _frustrating_. "I've only been  _barely_ passable in terms of having any idea what's around me, and even just  _that_ feels erroneous to say..."

**"Not so."**

Somewhat annoyed at this point, Dictatious cast Angor a tired look at that disagreement. Angor only shrugged. **"We've only just started in turning this into a more critical skill for you. It's clear you have not had this extent of practice before, because you're obviously not used to it. It's to be expected that you'll make mistakes."** He explained.  **"In truth, I was actually expecting this to go worse."**

"I can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment."

 **"Neither. It's an observation."** Angor said simply. He then looked at Dictatious with confusion.  **"... What is wrong with your face?"**

Dictatious may not have realized how hard he was squinting at Angor in his leeriness. It's just been strange, is all, how much differently the taller troll has been acting since the _last_ time they were together. If Dictatious didn't know any better, he'd almost say that this was Angor Rot being…  _nice_.

He looked away.

" _Nothing's_ wrong with it." He huffed, rolling his eyes and fiddling with the blindfold in his hands. "Where are we off to now? Am I to put this back on?"

 **"Hmm."**  Angor paused for a moment, looking around. **"No. We may as well start heading back."  
**   
  


For some time, they walked without a word said between them. 

Maybe it was Dictatious's imagination, but Angor seemed to be walking a little slower than he was earlier today.

Maybe it had been his imagination, but he could hear the rustling of leaves nearby, despite it being a windless day.

... And maybe it was Dictatious's imagination, but he could  _swear_ that he heard...

"Correct me if I'm wrong," He spoke up, sounding skeptical, "but has somebody been  _following_ us?"

**"I was wondering when you'd notice."**

Both trolls stopped in their tracks and turned around. Off in the sunlight, maybe about ten feet away from them, were the same two teenage boys Angor noticed following them the last time he and Dictatious had been in town. Angor was the first to speak, his eye narrowing suspiciously.

 **"If there is something you have to say to us, fleshbags,"** He growled,  **"then _say it._ "**

The two boys seemed rattled about being caught, but the taller of the two managed to keep his composure, clearing his throat. "No, uh, nothin' to say," He said, eyes shifty, "Just haven't seen you two around before."

"You, eh, you living around here?" The other one asked.

Something about these humans didn't sit right with Angor Rot. Something about their voices, or their shifty gazes... Perhaps that was just due to them being unfamiliar, and Dictatious couldn't say he recognized their voices either, but...

 **"... Temporarily."**  Angor eventually answered, very intentionally keeping it vague. His eye narrowed further.  **"For what reason did you waste an hour of your lives just to follow us?"**

Wait, they'd been following them around for an _hour?_  Dictatious supposed he was too distracted earlier to notice any consistent footsteps behind them, but  _still_...

The teens looked just as surprised that Angor had actually noticed them for that long. They stared at each other, unsure of what kind of excuse to come up with. "Uhhhh..." One drawled, clearly not able to produce any sort of answer. "... Curiosity?"

Angor rolled his eye.  **"Feed your 'curiosity' elsewhere."**  He rumbled.  **"Your continued _shadowing_ is not welcome."**

To both Angor and Dictatious's surprise, the two humans that had just been showing nervousness before suddenly started laughing.

"I mean, you can't really  _stop_ us." The taller one spoke again, his voice taking on a snide tone, "We  _know_ you can't come into the sunlight. We don't have to listen to you."

Even Dictatious cringed at that. He had the feeling it wasn't a good idea to exactly...  _challenge_ this particular troll... and the fact that Angor was being deathly silent as he stared the humans down probably wasn't a good sign...

 **"You're right. I _can't_ come into the sunlight."** Angor agreed, his own voice growing dangerously malicious in response to the human's sneer. Both children's eyes widened when they saw him pull a knife out of one of the sheaths in his attire. **"But my _aim_ , I promise you, is more than enough to make up for..."**

Angor didn't even bother finishing the threat. The humans already were running off quicker than a Stalkling divebombing its prey, and twice as loud. With another roll of the eye and an unimpressed snort at their dramatics, Angor just kept walking.

"While I'm not  _against_ making threats to fleshbags..." Dictatious said, raising a brow, "... was that necessary?"

 **"I'm not partial to the thought of wasting my time entertaining the pointless antics of such ignorant whelps."** Angor said, mildly annoyed.  **"We are not their _game_. They should know now not to stalk us as though we are."**

“… Fair enough.”

 

 

"Ah! You're back! How'd it go?" 

Toby greeted the two trolls basically as soon as they opened the door. He and Blinky were standing by some shelves by the wall - looked like the redhead was showing Blinky how to use Nana’s old radio.

 **"Nothing in particular to note."** Angor answered as he led Dictatious to the couch.  **"He did well."**

Dictatious rolled his eyes as he plopped into the seat. " _That's_  a matter of opinion." He grumbled. "I didn't even notice the pair of fleshbags following us for an  _hour_."

**"They were, I admit, stealthy... for humans, at least."**

"Wait, some people were  _following_ you?" Toby asked, sudden curiosity in his voice as he walked closer to the pair. "Why?"

**"Unsure."**

At that point, Blinky had looked over with curiosity too. "A pair of them, you say?" He said. "Was one taller with baggy attire and black-haired, the other a brunet with a grey hoodie tied around his waist?"

Everybody looked Blinky's way. **"Yes. Exactly."**  Angor confirmed.  **"You know them?"**

"Well, not personally," Blinky said, fiddling around with some switches, "but I noticed them the other day, following Aaarrrgghh and I as well. Perhaps they are curious about our kind."

Dictatious sent a squinty stare his brother's way, head tilting to the side in confusion. "What are you even  _doing_ , brother?"

"Ah, young Tobias was just showing me how to this quaint device works!" Blinky explained, "I've never seen a radio of this model before…”

When Blinky attempted to change the station knob, he accidentally pinched the volume knob instead and cranked up the volume suddenly.

The startled Blinky stumbled back as a loud voice sang through the speakers the very worst possible song Blinky could have let play.

**_~BLINDED BY THE LIGHT~_ **

Dictatious glared in the direction of his brother. Angor looked confused. Toby just looked dead inside.

**_~REVVED UP LIKE A DEUCE, ANOTHER RUNNER IN THE NIGHT, BLIIINDED BY THE LIGHT~_ **

"Blinkous. If I may point out." Dictatious said flatly over the music, a completely not-impressed expression on his face, "Your  _joke_  is in  _ill taste."_

Blinky basically lunged at the volume knob and turned it all the way down, a painfully awkward laugh and shrug being sent his brother’s way.

Dictatious just rolled his eyes.

“Aaaanyways,” Toby started to change the topic, “While you guys were out, did you happen to see J-“

**_~BLINDED BY THE LIGHT~_ **  
****

"Seriously, Blinkous?!  _Really?!_ "

"It's not me! I  _just_ turned it off-"

Over the music, they both could soon hear the obnoxious laughing of NotEnrique from atop the bookshelf. Dictatious sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You know, Changeling, sometimes you can even make being in the Darklands seem more appealing than here."

“Aww, don’t make me blush!” NotEnrique sneered back with a cackle.

Angor simply rolled his eye at their bickering. It was when he looked away from them that he noticed Toby starting to leave the room.

 **“Wasn’t there something you wanted to say, Trollhunter?”**  He asked.

“Oh,” Toby glanced back, “Don’t mind that. I’ll figure it out. Be right back!”

… Hmm. If he says so…

 

  
  
 The weather was not kind to trolls the next few days either. That is, glaringly sunny.

Toby, gracious as he was (and probably thankful to Angor Rot for having to deal with Dictatious less now), got them to the canals, under the bridge where there was plenty of shade.

“Think this’ll be enough space for you guys?” Toby asked,

 **“This should suffice.”**  Angor assured him, looking around.  **“Your assistance is appreciated.”**

“Anytime, my dude! I’ll come back in a while to check on you guys!” The human replied. “Don’t, uh, don’t die, okay?”

“That would be the ideal outcome, wouldn’t it.” Dictatious said somewhat sarcastically. Nevertheless, Toby ignored the comment and went on his way.

“So. What  _is_  on the agenda for today?” Dictatious asked, turning his attention to Angor Rot. The question wasn’t laced with any sort of sarcasm this time, but rather genuine curiosity.

A pleasant surprise.

~

 **"The Conundrums are a species with a naturally stocky build."**  Angor pointed out as he circled Dictatious .  **"As such, you should _not_  be as easy to knock over as you are.”**

Dictatious stayed on edge, head turning from side to side as he followed the sound of Angor’s steps. Unlike the last time, there was no promise of being unharmed today, as Angor has made clear with the amount of times he’s attacked the other within this hour alone.

 **“You carry your weight terribly.”**  Angor went on.  **“It takes very little to topple you.”**

“Wow, you don’t say-“

To both prove his point and cut off Dictatious’s sarcastic note, Angor sent him tumbling to the ground with one quick leg sweep, tripping him easily.

Dictatious grunted frustratedly, just laying there. “Wonderful. You have made your point.”

Angor helped him back up and said,  **“I’ve noticed you can be very tentative when you walk, probably for fear of tripping, am I right?”**

Dictatious rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure  _that_  out.”

 **“You must have confidence in your footwork, Dictatious.”** Angor said.  **“Your feet act as the strongest foundation to the rest of your body. You’re just setting yourself up for failure.”**

“So nothing new, then.” Dictatious grumbled under his breath.

That comment, Angor did not expect. He blinked, somewhat surprised.  **“What?”**

Dic rolled his eyes again. “ _Nothing_.” He huffed. “Care to get to the point?”

Angor raised an eyebrow, but… went back on track.  **“… Yes. As I was saying.”** He stepped closer to Dictatious.  **“Your stance would benefit from a slightly wider space between your feet.”**

Dictatious tried to adjust accordingly.

 **“Not _too_  wide. And put your leading foot just a touch back**. **”** Angor nodded when the smaller troll corrected himself.  **“Better.  Do you feel steadier standing like this?”**

“… I suppose.”

Angor went back to circling him.  **“You should always keep yourself securely grounded in a fight, especially when you’re going to be constantly moving.”**  He said.  **“Not only will it help prevent you from falling, it will also strengthen hits you make against an opponent.”**

“And you’re going to  _prove_  that to me, I’m guessing.”

 **“Naturally.”**  Angor too got in a fighting-ready stance.  **“Nothing more than simple hand-to-hand. Are you ready?”**

“That depends on your definition of  _‘ready’_ -“

Dictatious barely finished the sentence when a loud *pop* shot through the air. Angor immediately pulled the other troll back, mere milliseconds before a wet, bright-coloured substance splattered all over the ground near them.

“What was  _that?”_  Dictatious questioned, startled.

Angor looked from the glaringly red splatter on the ground to the edge of the canal where the shot came from.  **“Wait.”**  He rumbled lowly to Dictatious, cautious as he stepped closer to the edge of the shade to get a better look.

Wouldn’t you know it,  Those two annoying human whelps from before stood far up on the rails, a strange-looking (what Angor assumed to be a…?) weapon in the taller one’s hands.

Angor couldn’t make out what they were saying to each other, but they were obviously laughing.

 

“Shit Kyle, did you hit the scary one?” The smaller boy asked, watching Angor stare at them from the shade of the bridge.

“I dunno, I was aiming for the green guy.” His friend replied, loading up his paintball gun. He then laughed at his friend’s worried face. “ _Relax_ , Brody! I don’t care how good the guy says his aim is, there’s  _no way_  he can shank us from this range! Now…” With a smirk, he aimed the gun at its new target and said, “What colour should I make Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Ugly?”

 

“Angor?” Dictatious called over curiously. “What  _is_  it?”

Disgruntled, Angor Rot took a long, frustrated breath.  **“Our company has returned.”**

“Company? What com-“ Then it clicked. “Ohhh, those human whelps from before... What do they want  _now_?”

Another loud pop zinged through the air, but Angor was more than quick enough to step out of the way of the predictable shot, backing away from their line of sight.  **“Their wants are of no concern to us.”**  He growled, forming a ball of purple flames in his hand.

He shot forward, as far as he could safely go to the edge of the shade, and shot the fireball right towards them.

The screams of shock and terror was a sound Angor would treasure. Though, truthfully, he wasn’t aiming for them.

The fireball connected with its target, the paintball gun in Kyle’s hands being obliterated on the spot, the recoil knocking both him and his friend back.

“Holy shit, dude!” Kyle yelled, scrambling to get away with Brody close behind him. “He’s crazy! He’s magic, and he’s  _crazy_!”

“I  _told_  you you shouldn’t hit the scary one!”

Angor chuckled as he watched them run out of sight. Turns out he wasn’t the only one that amused, as when he turned around, he saw Dictatious laughing too.

“Did you  _hear_  their stupid screams?” He snickered. “ _Priceless!_ ”

Ahh. The tormenting of pesky fleshbags has put Dictatious in a better mood, at least.

 **“Now then…”**  Angor said, returning to his place by Dic’s side.  **“Where were we?”**

   
  


“Mom! I’m here!”

Jim walked through the door of his home and kicked off his shoes, looking around. “What’d you want to talk about?”

“In here, honey.”

Jim followed Barbara’s voice into the dining room where she sat. She gestured to the chair next to her, a concerned look on her face.

“Hey, what… what’s with the look?” Jim asked, her concern starting to mirror in his own face. “Are the Familiars okay? Did something happen?”

“No no, Jim, they’re fine, Walt’s with them…” Barbara assured him, sighing. “It’s  _my_  child I’m worried about.”

Frowning, Jim sat down. “What… do you mean?  _I’m_  fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Jim went quiet, unsure what his mother was getting at.

She sighed again. “… All of this, this… fighting, the fear, and the… the death… I don’t want you to have to go through all this  _pain_  again…”

“Mom…”

“I know…” She sighed a third time. “… I know, you’re the Trollhunter, you have to do it… Just…” She picked up his hand. “…  _Talk_  to me, if you’re having problems, okay?”

Jim looked at her, still frowning. “… Okay, mom…”

“That being said…” She went on, her voice soft, “… do you want to talk about what happened at Claire’s house?”

“Um…” Jim hesitated, wincing at the thought of the horrible flashbacks, “… I don’t think so…”

Barbara nodded slowly. “Okay…” She said, “… how about what Ms. Nomura said the other day?”

Jim looked away. He sighed too. “…. I  _know_  she misses him… we  _all_  do…”

“I know, honey…” She said sympathetically. “I know how hard death can be-”

Putting both of his hands around his mother’s, Jim closed his eyes, and sighed. “It’s okay, mom. I’ll be fine.” He tried his hand at a reassuring smile, but Barbara could see the sadness in it. “I just… think I need some time…”

Barbara frowned, but she didn’t want to push Jim through this difficult emotional time. Not when it came to something like this. “… Okay. Just… know you can talk to me, alright?”

“I know. Thank you, mom.”

His mother’s heart was in the right place, but… she  _didn’t_  understand. The death of a patient in the hospital is not the same as watching your friend die right in front of you, to  _protect_  you, it’s just…

… not the same.

She couldn’t understand  _this_. Not in the way she wanted to for Jim.

Not before hugging his mom, Jim went down to the basement.  
  


 

Despite Dictatious’s constant expressions of frustration, he had been showing decent improvement since they began. While Angor had started him out with easy-to-block, light attacks for him to get the hang of it, his novice was catching on quickly and Angor had soon been able to deliver stronger punches without much concern of him falling. 

What he seemed to struggle most with, was dealing any damage back.

 **“You’re improving on the defensive** ,” Angor said as he threw his punches,  **“but you stand no chance if you can’t hurt your opponent.”**

“What, you want me to hit a target I can’t  _see_?” Dictatious scoffed, maintaining his ground as best he could, “I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.”

 **“You don’t need to see me to know where I am.”** Angor took a moment to give Dictatious a break.  **“You should have an idea of where your enemy stands every time they land a hit on you. If you’re paying _extra_  attention, you should be able to hear an opponent coming.”**

“Alright. I get the hint.” Dictatious sighed, annoyed. “But that’s not the  _only_  problem. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the  _biggest or strongest of trolls…_ ”

 **“Strength comes in many forms. And you’re still just learning**.” Angor countered.  **“Your size, for example, can be used to your advantage easily.”**

“Hm...” Dictatious seemed doubtful, but almost everything Angor’s said has made sense so far.

 _Almost_.

Angor, seeing Dictatious’s doubt, went on with explaining his point.  **“Your lower center of gravity gives you the advantage in terms of getting under an opponent.”** He said.  **“A beneficial factor in close combat.”**

“And how would I do that?”

Before Angor could say, both their attentions became preoccupied with the shriek of a boy rolling into the canal on his bike, off-balanced by an attachment on the back. The familiar redhead corrected his path and rolled right over to them, braking to a stop.

“Heyyy! How you guys doing?” Toby asked casually as though his life didn’t just flash before his eyes. Then he saw the broken machine and splattered paint on the ground. “And… uhh… What’s with the paintball gun?” Toby asked.

“Oh, is  _that_  what that was?” Dictatious said as he dropped his defensive stance.

 **“ _That_  is what a gun is?” **Angor asked, confused.

“Not a deadly one, just one that…” Dictatious looked at Toby. “… shoots paint?”

Toby looked so confused. “I mean, yeah, but seriously, why though?” He said. “Somebody shooting paintballs at you?” Then, oh  _then_ , he looked annoyed on their behalf. “Wait, was it those guys who’ve been following you?”

“For some reason,” Dictatious said, “those two seem to have nothing better to do with their lives than to pester strangers.”

“You’re telling  _me_ …” Toby huffed in agreement. “Look, I’ll talk to Steve. He probably knows the guys. We’ll get this sorted out…” He shook his head and offered a lopsided smile. “Anyhow, sorry if I cut your guys’ training short, but I’ve got to meet with Claire at school soon, so I better get you guys back…” He pulled a large sheet out of the attachment on his bike. “You okay to head back now?”

 **“We can continue another day**.” Angor said, raising an eyebrow at Dictatious.  **“I’m sure this one won’t mind an excuse to end things early.”**

“How well you know me.” Dictatious jibed back sarcastically.

 

 

As the days passed, everyone stayed on guard, but lately it seemed they were anticipating an attack that would never come. Before, at least they had anomalies they could  _study_. But with nothing to go off of now, how could they properly prepare and plan?

It would be especially difficult if the Trollhunter kept distancing himself as he was starting to.

Everybody kept their eyes peeled for all… for  _any_  sign of trouble. Yet it was still nothing, nothing, nothing.

In the meantime, Angor kept his focuses on Dictatious’s training.

But, while the troll has been improving, he too has seemed… off, recently. More… pessimistic, maybe. It’s not like Angor knew him that well. But such subtleties weren’t too hard to notice, especially with how much time they’ve had to spend together.

While Angor Rot’s concern was definitely not with Dictatious’s  _feelings_  of all things, the troll’s current mood didn’t exactly  _benefit_  him.

 

 

 **“Dictatious…”**  Angor sighed, trying not to let the wear on his patience show in his voice,  **“you _must_  remember  _not_  to move your upper body independently of your lower when you hit an opponent.”**

Dictatious rolled his eyes with a sigh of his own, reluctantly accepting Angor’s help up off the ground.

Angor frowned. The smaller troll seemed  _particularly_  out of it today… he was usually a faster learner…

 **“When you try to strike someone like _that_ , it’s too easy for them to throw off your balance. Remember what I said about keeping yourself  _grounded_.”**  He tried to explain.  **“Do you understand?”**

“Of  _course_  I understand…” Dictatious grumbled, “but  _knowing_  and  _doing_  are two different things…”

 **“… I know.”** Agreed Angor. If Dictatious could just see him, if he could  _see_  what to do, it’d be so much easier on him… but, there is another way. Angor stepped forward.  **“Would you be against me _showing_  you?”**

Dictatious’s eyes narrowed significantly, but he didn’t object. “… I suppose not…”

Given permission, Angor came up behind Dictatious. The smaller troll tensed when Angor started to reposition his upper arms. He raised an eyebrow, letting go and stepping back when he saw the other’s discomfort.  **“If you’d rather I didn’t…”**

“No, no, it’s…” Dictatious sighed, rolling his eyes, but in reaction to himself this time. He  _knew_  this would make it easier to understand. “… It’s fine. Just show me.”

Angor looked skeptical, but stepped forwards again.  **“When you try to land a hit, you’re only using your upper body strength.”** Angor explained.  **“Move your leg back a bit more.”**

Dictatious did so.

 **“The strength you produce for something like a punch starts from your feet. So, when you move to strike, you should feel it in your whole body, not just your torso.”**  Angor held his arms again and moved Dictatious accordingly to demonstrate.  **“Does that help?”**

Dictatious cleared his throat. “… I, erm… I think so…?”

 **“Good.”**  Angor stepped away and took his place in front of Dictatious again.  **“The same can be said for throwing someone _else_  off balance.”** He went on.  **“Say I were to move in and strike you like this,”**  As demonstration, Angor feigned a punch to Dictatious’s gut, leaving his arm in the position.  **“What could you do?”**

Dictatious’s ears flattened back a bit. “Um… I suppose I could…” He tentatively took hold of Angor’s arm, frowning in thought. “… pull you down?”

 **“That is one option, yes**.” Angor withdrew his hand, circling again as he talked.  **“Normally, an enemy would be hitting you much faster and harder – you can use their strength against them as you counter, the momentum from their attack making it easier to down them. Account for your enemy’s position relative to yours. Suppose I came at you from behind-“**

From those words, Dictatious knew from where he could expect Angor’s next move. Prepared this time, he grabbed Angor’s arm as soon as he could feel it.

 **“Good.”**  Angor again said, pleasantly surprised.  **“You’re catching on.”**

Words of praise usually seem to do the trick with improving the other’s mood somewhat. Even if it didn’t last long…

Again and again they’d do the same thing.

At least, to Dictatious, it all  _felt_  like the same thing. His frustrations grew with each failed attempt as time passed.

 **“You have to be faster than that,”**  Angor said as he pulled away from Dictatious’s hits. They were stronger, yes, but not quick enough to be effective in a  _real_  fight.  **“Keep trying.”**

‘Keep trying’.

What even is the  _point_.

Still, Angor’s continuous hits against him  _forced_  him to keep trying.

Even if he got knocked down again and again?

This is pointless.

This is  _pointless_.

 _This is pointless_ -

**“Dictatious?”**

At the sound of his name, Dictatious glared at the source. Angor sounded confused, almost  _infuriatingly_  so. “Why are you doing this?” He finally asked.

Still, Angor seemed to not know what he meant.  **“Doing what?”**

“This!  _Any_  of this!” Dictatious snapped, gesturing angrily with his hands. “Why  _bother_  with this training?”

**"You need to be capable of basic self-defence.** **_Any_ ** **troll should know-"**

" _Obviously_ I know the importance of self-defence! I'm not an  _idiot_ , Angor!"

A look of mild surprise took Angor’s face at the unexpected outburst. Dictatious looked… rather exasperated.

“Why are  _you_  doing this, Angor?” Dictatious said again. “You’re a feared assassin about to get caught up in a fight that will no doubt be  _devastating_. Why don’t you put this time towards something  _useful_ , like training one of the Trollhunters instead, or  _anybody_  else?”

 **“The others already know how to fight.”** Angor said.  **“You need this the most.”**

“Oh, it’s not just  _that_.” Dictatious scoffed, seeing through that cover, but not able to see what was  _underneath_. “Haven’t you  _learned_  by now that there’s no  _point_? I will never stand a chance for what’s to come!”

Angor frowned.  **“I don’t… understand where this is coming from.”**

To even entertain the idea that he’d actually amount to something on the battlefield? You’d have to be a fool.  _He’s been a fool._  “ _I_  don’t understand why you think any of this is going to  _amount to anything_.”

**“Why did _you_  agree to watch over me?”**

That caught Dictatious off guard. He gave Angor a blank stare. “I…”

Angor’s eye narrowed, looking down at the small one.  **“Judging from your reputation, such a ‘selfless’ act on your part doesn’t make sense. Why would you, of all trolls, agree to be stuck with someone you normally wouldn’t bother yourself with?”**

Dictatious searched himself for an answer, only to find he had none. None he was willing to articulate. None that he fully understood himself.

Angor saw the unknowing look in his eyes and snorted. **“So you can’t even answer me that.”**  Going back to the first topic at hand, he said,  **"From what the others have told me about you, I didn't think you would be one for such… modesty."**

"I'm not being  _modest_." Dictatious growled, his annoyance quickly returning. "I'm being  _accurate_. Unlike  _one_ of us..." He narrowed his eyes at Angor. “And from what I’ve heard about  _you_ …” He continued, “… I didn’t think you’d be the type to waste so many hours on such  _futility_.”

 **“I’m not.”**  Angor stated, arms now crossed.  **“Why do you keep insisting this is pointless?”**

"Because I just- I can't  _do_ this. I can't do anything of  _use_." Dicatious sighed harshly looked away. "You should know. You've seen the extent of what I can do, which - surprise surprise -  _is not much_."

**"But you have shown much improvement since we started. You get better with each passing day."**

Dictatious scoffed. "Sure, maybe I can fight off a  _goblin_ or two now, but what of it? I will  _never_ be able to defeat another troll, let alone a  _sorceress_  or Her underlings. It’s not going to happen! Can't you see that I'm a  _hopeless case,_  Angor?"

 **“… Even…”** Angor paused, trying to remember how the phrase went,  **"… ’Even the word hopeless isn’t void of hope’."**

Dictatious's ears perked immediately. "... Where did you hear that?"

 **"I overheard your brother mention the phrase."**  Angor explained simply. His head tilted to the side, watching, calculative.  **"I believe they are words you should be considering now."**

"Blinkous...?  _Really?_ "

Angor tilted his head, confused, when Dictatious suddenly snickered at that. The smaller troll shook his head.

"... I'm surprised the old fool still repeats those words..." He mumbled to himself. “… Sentimental sap…”

**“It is a sentiment you agree with, is it not?”**

“I… used to.”

They both were quiet for a shared pass of time. Angor’s eyes stayed locked on Dictatious’s, while his still looked away.

Angor’s voice again broke the silence.

 **“Even if you don’t realize it yourself,you’re not hopeless. I’ve seen enough to know that much.”** He said, stepping closer.  **“So get back up. I won’t allow you to prove me wrong.”**

Angor said it like a fact. No emotions attached. Like it was something he just…  _knew_.

For a while there, all Dictatious could really do was stare blankly at the blurry figure beside him.

With a sigh, though not one of defeat, Dictatious finally picked himself back up. "... Alright..." He huffed, "... so, you were telling me about leverage."

 

  
It was another dark, silent night.

In the dining room of the Domzalskis, the only sound was the slow, tired crunching of somewhat stale potato chips, the only light being a dim glow from Toby’s laptop feed into his droopy eyes. 

“Hey, T.P….”

Head flopped onto the table, he didn’t have to look up to recognize Claire’s voice. He gave an indifferent mumble in greeting.

Claire pulled up a chair, sneaking a few chips from his bag. “Still nothing on the cameras?”

“Nope.” Toby sighed, flopping his head the other way to stare at her. He looked worried. “What if She  _knows_  somehow? That we’re watching for Her? What if- What if She’s poofing up portals somewhere else and we wouldn’t even know because anybody  _near_  ‘em gets sucked in? Or what if-“

“Hey,” Claire said, booping his nose with a chip, “I know it’s scary… and… sometimes I wonder too, if there’s other people She might be hurting right now…” Claire cringed at the thought, sighing, but she quickly put back on a reassuring smile. “But we’ve got more support than we think. Strickler and Nomura’s got the Janus Order in all parts of the  _world_  on the lookout for abnormal magic activity, looking carefully into missing persons…” She trailed off when she noticed Toby’s quiet groaning muffled through the table.

“It’s a  _big world_.” He said in his melancholy. “There’s no  _way_  we can cover  _everything_.”

“… Well… That’s true…” Claire agreed, “… which is why we should keep on focusing on what we  _can_  cover.”

Another long sigh from Toby. “I  _guess_ …”

Claire poked his cheek. “Hey. You need to sleep, you dope. I’ll take over.”

She continued poking Toby.

“Toby. Toby. T.P. Toby-pie. Heeeeey. Toby. Toby. Tobyyyyyy-“

Finally got a small chuckle out of him. “Okay, okaaay- I’m going, I’m going.” He hopped off the chair, almost falling over from the resulting headrush, and went on his way upstairs. “G’night, Claire.”

“Night, T.P.”

  
  


**"You should think of a knife as an extension of your hand."**

The pair of trolls parried blades, back and forth exchanging sharp blows against metal. Dictatious, understandably, was more than a little clumsy with the knife Angor had lent him. Not to mention he was still struggling to get the hang of judging his opponent's movements and position. Many of his strikes had been missing their target. But, he had still been doing better than when they started.

 _'Think about it logically,'_ Angor had said when they were first starting with weapon combat,  _'Where am I going to be most likely to try and hit you with a blade?'_

Vitals, kill spots, obviously. So naturally, those such areas are where Dictatious focused on protecting. Still, not being able to  _see_ how his opponent was moving wasn't doing him any favours.

 **"You've been improving at adjusting to my battle style,"** Angor pointed out as Dictatious managed to block another strike,  **"but in a real battle, you won't have so much time to learn how to predict your opponent. You need to counteract that disadvantage."**

Just barely, Dictatious ducked out of the way of Angor's next swing. There were times where he almost felt like he could  _hear_ the weapon coming at him, or even feel the slightest breeze that his opponent's movements caused. It seemed to help, even if only a bit. "And how do you propose I do that?" He huffed.

 **"You are a clever troll. I _know_  you are capable of quick thinking."** Angor plainly said, twirling his knife in hand.  **"You need to be able to _act_ just as quickly."**

The assassin's blade whizzed passed Dictatious's face for the umpteenth time, and at this point he was mostly just focused on not getting hit – he knows these are specially made not to pierce troll skin, but they’d probably still  _hurt_.

Constantly being on the defensive won't help him for long, though - an enemy could wear him down easily like this. He needs to strike, just like Angor's trying to get him to do.

**"We've already gone over how most combatants will underestimate you because of your eyes. Use that to catch an enemy off guard."**

Try as he did, Dictatious’s knife was struck from his hands by Angor’s.

 **“And, keep a good grip.”**  Angor added, twirling his own knife before picking up Dictatious’s for him.

Dictatious sighed. “This would be so much simpler with a Parlok Spear…” He mumbled to himself as he took back the blade.

That caught Angor’s attention.  **“A Parlok Spear?”** He repeated.  **“I thought you said you had no fighting experience.”**

“I mean, not  _really_  -” Dictatious said, “I mostly just used one in the Darklands, for the wildlife. I still wasn’t a fighter, but… I suppose I got somewhat used to handling one, yes.”

 **“You should have said something sooner.”**  Angor would have welcomed the practicing of a weapon he’s  _used_  before.  **“Where is your spear now?”**

“Ah. It won’t be much use to us now.” Dictatious said flatly. “It’s still in the Darklands.”

Hmm. Unfortunate.

It would appear they’d have to keep working with what they’ve got.

~

Words looped around Dic’s head, scramblings of words clambering desperately to try and formulate  _any_ sort of plan of attack.

But to form a viable plan, one needs to think clearly.

What time would he have to think clearly when there's a  _knife_ coming at him every second? 

And speaking of--

The clash of their blades as Dictatious blocked Angor’s knife with his own felt deafening, but that might just be due to the pumping adrenaline the smaller troll was feeling at this point. How do warriors  _do_ this all the time?

 **“Your reaction time is improving.”**  Angor pointed out, pressing against the opposing knife with his.  **“But you have yet to land a hit.”**

"I'm  _painfully_ aware." Dictatious’s grip got shakier with every second their blades were locked. He racked his brain looking for, not sure how long he’d be able to counter this…

… then he had an idea.

He made a sudden duck to the side, the shifting balance giving him just a  _moment's_ opportunity as Angor's knife fell off of his. Silently praying this would work, Dictatious flipped the knife from the upper left hand in which he'd been holding it to his lower right. Dictatious couldn't waste even a millisecond to make this move.

It only took Angor the smallest fraction of time to recover from the stumble Dictatious caused when he cut away. As such, it took Angor only the smallest fraction of time to whip around and ready his knife to block Dic-

He...  _missed_.

Not only did he miss, but he went completely still at the feeling of a sharp jab in his side.

When he got a good look at Dictatious, he could see what the other had done.

Angor had aimed to block, but due to Dictatious switching hands, he aimed for the wrong spot. Also due to the switch of his knife placement, Dictatious had managed to hit Angor in a spot he hadn’t thought to block.

“I… actually  _hit_  you?” Dictatious sounded just as surprised.

 **“You did.”**  Angor said, straightening himself.  **“That was a good maneuver. I’m impressed.”**

The sound of genuine praise from the one so arduously coaching him all this time perked Dictatious right up. He actually  _smiled_  for a second, there.

 **“Maybe we should see how well you’d adjust to dual-wielding.”**  Angor mused.  **“But let’s just stick with practicing with the one knife for now…”**

He trailed off at the sight of one orange-haired boy flashed in the corner of his eye. Angor turned his head to see Toby, but the boy had only peeked into the yard for a moment before starting to leave again.

 **"... One moment."**  He said to Dictatious, walking over to the human.  **"Do you need something, Trollhunter?"** Angor asked, catching Toby just before he ducked out of sight.

"Oh-" Not realizing he'd been seen, he tried to brush it off. "Oh no, it's fine, it's just..." Toby's sentence fell short, and he sighed. He reversed his steps, facing Angor Rot. "Have you seen Jim?"

 **"Not since yesterday, no."** Angor answered, one eyebrow raising up curiously.  **"Is he alright?"**

Toby sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, that's what I'm trying to find out..." He muttered, glancing at the phone in his other hand. "He's been disappearing a few times lately, turning off his location and stuff... I just wanted to make sure he's okay."

Well... Considering that child's tendencies, that's a fair concern. **"I have not seen him."**  Angor said again. **"But if I do, I will tell him you're looking for him."**

He got a grateful smile from the redhead. "Thanks. I'm going to go check a few more places."

Just as quickly as he'd appeared, Toby was gone. Aside from the slightly heavier frown on his face, Angor went back to Dictatious's side just the same as before. The smaller troll looked curious.

"So he misplaced his halfling?" Dictatious said plainly, and with a bit of confusion. "What does it matter if the boy's not always where people expect him to be?"

Angor took a slow breath, reaching over and repositioning Dictatious's grip on his blade.  **"I have spent much time studying this Trollhunter."**  He said. **"Both from what I have seen and heard about him, isolation is not a good sign."**

All Dictatious had in response to that was an indifferent hum. It's not like he knew Jim very well - the most time he'd spent with the boy was while he was inside a cage, so...

There was no point in dwelling on it right now. They might as well finish up what they were doing here. Angor Rot might have considered helping the other human look for his friend, but if the Trollhunter wanted to be alone, that's ultimately his choice in the end.

Though, what Angor  _did_ think he should look for, was a better weapon for Dictatious.

  
  


One does not simply come across a Parlok Spear lying around like pennies fallen out of a stranger's pocket. One must do some  _digging_ for such a weapon. But with the amount of people there are in this ragtag group of Trollhunters and misfits alike, Angor Rot was sure at least  _one_ of them might know where one is. 

Barbara was the first he got around to asking. Unfortunately, she did not recognize the name of such a weapon. Offer as she did to try and be of further help, Angor spared her the extra interaction with him. She knew of her discomforts. There were others he could ask.

Aaarrrgghh was the next one to be approached with the question. Not that he would have much more in the way of feeling... 'unthreatened' by the assassin's presence, but as a former Gumm-Gumm, he would undoubtedly have more experience being around the kind of weaponry Angor sought.

And familiar with Parlok Spears he was, but did he know of any that were currently accessible? Not off the top of his head, unfortunately. And he did express regrets that he couldn't be of more help, of which Angor found somewhat unexpected. Still, he could assure the larger troll that it was not a big deal. 

It's not as though a mere Parlok Spear was of much significance. It would simply be a nice thing to have for training purposes, but there were no dire consequences should he not come upon one, of course.  
  


 

"Hey, Spooktacular." 

Angor Rot looked up from his carving to see NotEnrique lying on the kitchen island in front of him.

"Heard you been looking for a Parlok Spear." The Changeling said, looking him up and down. "Didn't think that was your kinda weapon."

 **"It is not."**  Angor replied, returning his focus to the careful chiseling of the totem in his hand.  **"Dictatious has mentioned using one in the past. I had intended to see what he could do with one in his current state."**

NotEnrique laughed. "Haven't given up on training the ol' snotface, huh? I applaud your patience." When Angor gave him another bland stare, NotEnrique did a quick couple of joking claps. "Well listen, if it's any interest to ya, I think I saw what yer lookin' for in Jim's basement."

 **"His basement."** Angor repeated, raising a brow.  **"You spend much time in the Trollhunter's basement?"**

"Don't insult my hidey-hole options, I just gave you some good info!" NotEnrique said, sounding defensive, but almost in a joking way. "Yeah, I been down there a few times here n' there. Pretty sure I saw a Parlok Spear among some other stuff, just thought I'd mention it since you're lookin'. Like the good Samaritan I am."

**"Hmm. You just think it will be amusing to watch Dictatious struggle with handling a sharp weapon, don't you."**

"Haha. Yeah."

Despite the Changeling's utterly transparent agenda, at least he did bring Angor something useful. It wouldn't hurt to check out, he was sure.

  
  


Ideally, Angor would have made sure to have the approval of the Trollhunter or his parent before skulking around his house suspiciously - though it might seem unbelievable from an outside observer's perspective, the assassin didn't particularly  _want_ to go out of his way to jeopardize the tiny bit of trust he had been shown so far by these people. But, the Trollhunter seemed to be off somewhere alone at the moment, and according to his mate's parents, they had offered to take care of the infants so Barbara and Stricklander could have a night out to relax.  

Time for relaxing didn't seem like time well-spent given their situation, in Angor's opinion, but there could be worse ways to waste time, he supposed. Either way, as long as  _someone_ knew he was there and not trying to commit dastardly crimes against anyone, he supposed this was good enough and went on to the basement's stairs.

Halfway through his descent to the lower floor, he saw another figure, already standing inside the basement. Dim light radiated off of small, warm-smelling candles, the reflections of their fire glistening off the black-red metal that Angor recognized to be Jim's armour.

The Trollhunter had his back turned to the stairs, unaware of the naturally ghost-silent troll's presence. Angor blinked a few times, an expression that looked nearly curious as to what the half-troll was doing. When he moved a little closer, still silent and unnoticed by the other, it was then that he could see.

There was a painting, one of many that Angor could assume Barbara painted. This one in particular, though, it stood among other carefully arranged items - a tall floor lamp with a broken shade and what looked to be a bite taken out of where the light-bulb would usually be, pieces of a broken, worthless Grit Shaka, pieces of what looked to be a human board game, and one lone Parlok Spear lying before the canvas, all surrounded by an array of once-beautiful flowers, ones that had begun to very noticably lose their luster.

Angor recognized the troll painted on that canvas. It was one he'd fought before. A friend and protector of the human Trollhunter.

Draal.

Silent still was the assassin as he took another slow couple of steps closer, uncertain of whether or not his presence would be... welcome, in a place like this. But the Trollhunter, he  _had_ been seeming low lately. He didn't know why that concerned him so much, but it did. And Angor could swear, Jim sounded almost like he was...

**"... Trollhunter?"**

Jim jumped at the voice, having thought he was alone. He turned. "Oh, Angor-" He said, quickly wiping his face, "Did, uh, did you need something?"

Angor's eye switched from looking at memorial to Jim, unblinking.  **"It is unimportant."**  He replied.  **"... You've... been distant, these past few days. Something troubles you?"**

The tiny trace of sympathy and concern Angor's tone took in that moment caught Jim by surprise. "Ha... That obvious, huh...?" He sighed, turning back to the picture. "I've just... been a little down about some things, I guess."

Angor was quiet, then took another uncertain step forward.  **"Do you wish to be alone right now?"**

Jim was quiet too, but he shrugged. "I... don't mind either way."

... Hmm. So he says.

Still, permission had been given for him to be there. So Angor ambled to the Trollhunter's side, studying him carefully as he did so. When Jim's stance got tense, Angor went still.

He wasn't dense. He knew this would be a... sensitive situation, considering how this troll died...

Or maybe he  _was_ dense, for taking that into account and still choosing to stay. Well, either way...

Angor Rot turned his attention again to the memorial, the steadily-wilting flowers shedding the seldom petal, but a safe distance away from the few candle's fire. He looked upon the centerpiece, the canvas with an impressive from-memory painting of Draal on Barbara's part. Soft shades of blue accented his tough but caring face, a piercing mix of yellow and red bringing out eyes that looked up, as if seeing stars that were not there to be seen. It was a vibrant painting. As vibrant as his friend's memories of him.

"He was an amazing troll, you know." Jim said. His voice sounded hollow, but part of that might've been from trying to blatantly ignore the fact he'd been crying. "One of the bravest I've ever known."

There was something else in those statements too, some sort of implication, maybe even some bitterness that Jim hadn't fully intended. But who could blame him in this situation? Angor didn't. Honestly, he was just surprised Jim hasn't told him to leave yet.

The taller of the two was silent, aside from a quiet hum of consideration, before he spoke.  **"I don't doubt you."** He said.  **"I admit that I misjudged him, our first confrontation."**

Jim bit his tongue, but just nodded slightly. When Angor snuck another glance at him, he looked frustrated, sad of course, like there was more he wanted to say, but couldn't. 

Couldn't find the right words. Or, couldn't bring himself to say them. 

He wasn't a saint. He's not all-forgiving. This troll   _killed_ Draal, and while Jim was  _trying_ not to blame him, it  _was_  mostly Gunmar's fault, but, the truth of the matter is... Angor Rot  _killed_ Draal... As much as Jim wished he wasn't, he was still  _angry_.

The Trollhunter sighed another heavy sigh, and anybody could see clear as day the conflicted feelings he was having about this.

Was  _Angor_ supposed to say something? What could he  _possibly_ say in this situation?  _'Sorry I accidentally stabbed your friend - I was aiming for you, I swear'._

Right. He'll take the silence instead...

The Trollhunter frowned as another petal fell from one of the withering flowers around the canvas. "Got to replace those soon, I guess..." He mumbled under his breath, for lack of being able to verbalize anything  _better_ right now.

His attention now turned to those sad-looking plants, Angor was struck with a thought.

When the Trollhunter's old enemy held a hand up and closed his eye, a vivid lavender glow illuminating the air around said hand, Jim gave him a mildly concerned side glance. He watched, with caution and curiosity, as Angor began an incantation.  
  


**"βψ δεψα'σ ηςαγε, λετ με ςετυςν ονε σθςεδ οζ λjζε ζος ωθατ jτοoκ."  
**   


As he spoke, the coloured light in his hand took form in a threadlike stream moving towards the plants, its light turning from lavender to a strong sky blue as it made contact with each petal, leaf and stem, rejuvenating each flower. When the magical surge faded away, the flowers framing that image of Draal now seemed to glow all on their own with new life, their radiant colours shining more vibrantly than even when they were first cut. 

"Oh..." Jim said softly, his wide eyes staring from the newly refreshed plants to Angor Rot. "Thank you..."

The thanks was returned with a quiet hum. Angor folded his arms, a silent sigh leaving him as he stared into the painted face of this felled troll.  **"He died protecting those he loved and fighting for what he believed in. It is the least I could do for such an honourable death."**

"… Sometimes, I wonder what he'd do if he were here. I wonder what he'd... What he'd think of the choices we've..." He bit his tongue. "...  _I've_ made..."

Angor studied Jim.  **"... I did not know him well at all. I couldn't provide an accurate answer for you."**  He said.  **"But his dedication to you was always plain to see. If I were to make a guess, Trollhunter, I believe he would have been honoured to be standing with you today, despite all of the difficult choices you’ve been faced with.”**

Jim suddenly looked away, making an odd noise. It didn’t take Angor long to realize he was trying not to cry right then and there.

 **“Mourn however you need to, Hunter.”** Angor said, his voice again carrying traces of uncharacteristic sympathy. “ **You’re not being judged.”**

That was about all it took. Jim still didn’t look at him, but he wasn’t holding back the tears anymore.

They didn’t share words for some time, until Jim was done crying, then he spoke.

“… Sorry…” He muttered awkwardly, wiping his face of tears.

 **“Nothing to be sorry for.”**  Angor replied.  **"Your friends have been worried about you."** He pointed out to Jim.

Jim sighed. "... Yeah... I guess I just... didn't want to drag anybody down more, it's... it's stupid of me to be acting like this with everything going on right now..."

 **"Draal was their friend too, was he not**?" Angor asked, a rhetorical question as he was fairly sure he knew the answer.  **"I'm sure they would understand why you're feeling this way. And it’s plain to see they don't want you to feel alone.”**

“… You’re right…” Jim cleared his throat, then sighed. “You’re right. I’ll… I’ll talk to them.”

Again they were quiet.

 **"The pain does fade, Trollhunter."**  He assured the child.  **"Never will it disappear completely, but it does fade."**

"I know." Jim whispered. "It's just... hard sometimes."

**"I understand."**

… He does, doesn’t he…

"... Do you-" Jim started, but went quiet, biting his tongue again. Maybe he shouldn't ask such a personal question. But when he saw Angor inquisitively looking at him, he felt he might as well just come right out and say it. He continued, in a faltering voice, "Do you... still think about your village? From before Morgana...?"

The taller troll broke eye contact, staring instead into one of the candle's flames without so much as a blink.  **"... Yes. Sometimes."**

"... When you went to Morgana for magic..." Jim started, watching Angor, "... it was so that you could defend your village, wasn't it…?"

Angor didn't respond. Jim felt he could take that as a yes. And, obviously... that plan didn't quite work out...

"I'm... I'm sorry, Angor..." Jim said softly, this time his voice being the one toned with sympathy. "You didn't deserve that.”

Angor took a quiet, deep breath in, which he held for a moment before letting it go as an even quieter sigh. **"Your pity is misplaced."**  He replied. **"I abandoned them in our most dire of times."**

"It wasn't your fault-"

 **"It was long ago, Trollhunter."** Angor cut him off.  **"What's done is done, regardless of intention."**

Jim bit his tongue, frowning. "... 'Long ago' or not..." He said, a more serious note to his voice. "... you shouldn't blame yourself for something like that."

Angor responded with nothing more than a scoff. 

"Hey." Jim said firmly. Angor finally glanced his way again. "You tried to  _protect_ them, Angor. If  _anybody's_ at fault for what happened back then, it's Morgana and Gunmar."

A flicker of confusion crossed Angor's face. Confusion as to why the Trollhunter is so adamant about making this point. The boy is still sensitive about how his friend died, the one they're at the very grave at and that Angor himself  _killed_ , yet still he says all of this out of nowhere?

Humans are strange creatures.

Aside from a sigh from Jim, who hoped he was at least getting through to Angor a  _little_  bit, the two of them fell into silence.

A silence of which was not just shared by their ears. For when one leaves the basement door  _open_ whilst discussing painful memories, it's easier for others to listen in on said painful memories.

Dictatious wasn't much of one to  _care_ about other people's problems all that much. He  _did_ , however begrudgingly, agree to monitor the whole 'Angor' situation. And if he's supposed to be keeping a metaphorical lookout for this troll, then who can blame him for being curious about where he disappeared to? He'd been sitting outside the door long enough to hear what he needed to, in any case.

Despite his aforementioned lack of caring about other's problems, listening to...  _this_ particular conversation brought the ghost of a frown to Dictatious's face...

His ears perked up at the sound of Jim speaking again.

"I guess we've both lost a lot to people like Gunmar and Morgana, huh...?" The Trollhunter sighed under his breath.

Angor did nothing more than nod slowly in agreement.

Jim glanced at him, thinking. "Then..." He said, "I guess that's all the more reason not to let the likes of them hurt anyone else, right?" He offered the assassin a hesitant smile.

Angor looked at Jim, face void of any discernible emotion, and yet the boy could tell he felt the same, somewhere in that broken husk.  **"Against the Pale Lady, there will be no avoiding pain, Hunter... but..."**

Maybe Angor couldn't save his own village all those years ago.

But maybe... just maybe he can help protect this one.

**"... I will fight alongside you if it means defeating Her. No matter the cost."**

That was all it took to put a bit more hope in Jim's smile. "That means a lot, Angor. Thank you."

Dictatious's frown deepened. In his mind, certain dots were starting to connect.

"Well, I should probably go find Tobes and Claire, tell 'em not to worry. I'm sure you don't want to spend the whole night in my basement, anyways."

Upon hearing that, along with the movement of the two warriors to the stairs, Dictatious made a hasty exit. He was only lucky that he'd been starting to get the hang of being "stealthy"... somewhat.  
  


Halfway through climbing the stairs, Jim paused, and looked again to Angor. 

"And, you know..." Jim said, a faint smile starting to form, "... you  _can_ call me Jim, if you want."

 **"'Jim'..."** Angor repeated, a look of contemplation on his face... Sounded... strange. 

 **"... Perhaps another day."** He replied flatly, causing Jim to laugh.

"Well, whatever suits your fancy then, Angor- oh, or should I be calling you 'Mr. Rot', since we're being 'formal'?" Joked the Trollhunter.

**"Formal is not the word I'd use... and, do not call me that."**

"I was only kidding." Jim chuckled again, Angor following him upstairs. "Hey, get some sleep tonight, okay?"

**"You should consider taking your own advice, Hunter."**

Jim blinked a few times at that. "That... is a fair point." 

A smile, even half of one, Jim was not expecting, but it’s what he got. He watched the assassin leave him to his own devices, and Jim smiled again, his anger from before having faded more than he thought it would.

He's  _not_ a monster. No matter how much he had acted like one.

 

 

 **“Your stance is too wide.”**  

“I think I have a few more things to worry about than  _my stance!”_

Dictatious’s case in point, he got smacked across the yard by the leafy giant that opposed him. Angor watched with an eagle’s eye to make sure the fight wouldn’t get out of hand, but he didn’t move from his place beneath the tree. He could tell that hit didn’t hurt Dictatious much anyways. The small troll got up fine, but flinging many Trollish curses the training dummy’s way.

**“You wouldn’t have gotten knocked that far if you had corrected your stance.”**

“Oh  _haha_ -” Dictatious barely got half a sarcastic quip in before having to lunge to the left, just narrowly avoiding the leafy fist pummelling down to the ground where he’d just been. “Don’t you think this is all a bit  _advanced_  for where I’m at?!”

 **“A golem made of dead leaves is hardly what I’d call much above your current capabilities**.” Angor said with a smirk.  **“You know what needs to be done. You’ll be fine.”**

“Well _thank you for your confidence.”_

**“That didn’t sound very thankful.”**

Angor got a glare from Dictatious. He went back to fighting (at least,  _trying_  to fight) the golem.

A familiar snicker sounded off from one of the branches above the assassin. “Yous’ got immunity to sodium or something, Spooktacular, ‘cause that guy’s a living salt mine.”

 **“Changeling.”**  Angor greeted, not taking his eyes off Dictatious and the golem.   **“Come to do away with your boredom, have you?”**

“You bet.” NotEnrique chuckled, letting his arm hang from the tree. “What better entertainment is there than watchin’ someone get beat up by yesterday’s rake pile?”

Angor had to agree these events have been amusing to watch.

“S’a shame you couldn’t use the Parlok Spear at Jim’s, though.” NotEnrique mused. “Oh well. I  _tried_  to help.”

**“Hmm.”**

Angor’s head turned at the sound of a car pull into the driveway across the street. An epiphany struck him as he watched Strickler walk inside the Trollhunter’s home.

 **“Actually, Changeling** …” Angor said,  **“… perhaps you _can_  be of some help.”**

 

 

Colliding metal sent clashing sounds through the air. Blade against blade, the sharp noises were accompanied with grunts of effort from their wielders. 

Angor sat with his arms crossed beneath Nana's apple tree in the backyard, not taking his eye off of the sparring troll and human. He watched their every moves very intently.

 **"A knife is to be treated as an extension of the hand."**  Angor repeated from his last lesson with Dictatious.  **"A long weapon such as this, however, is like another limb entirely. You must attune it with the rest of your body. Do not move independently of your weapon, Dictatious, move _with_ it."**

Another loud clang broke loose throughout the clearing as the blade of Claire's Naginata was caught between the prongs of Dictatious's Parlok Spear.

"Aha!" Exclaimed Dictatious triumphantly upon catching his opponent's weapon.

Claire blinked a few times before grinning. Quick as ever, she moved her Naginata up and then pulled down, hooking the Parlok Spear on the base of its blade, then yanked it right out of his hands and sent it flying across the yard.

"... Ah." The troll said, enthusiasm from before much deflated. "That did not go over well."

 **"Premature celebration,"** Angor continued, the ghost of a smirk on his face as he got up to retrieve the spear,  **"will often bring you disappointment."**

He would be one to know, as he's had  _much_ personal experience in underestimating this group of Trollhunters. Angor knew that Claire would be a good choice in close combat as he had experience there as well.

Claire giggled, twirling her weapon gracefully in the one hand and smiled in good nature at Dictatious. "Well, you only lose when you stop trying. Almost had me that time!"

"If by 'almost' you mean 'not even close', then I agree." Dictatious rolled his eyes, but thankfully he wasn't in bad humour, himself. 

Truth be told, Dictatious had actually been doing exceptionally well today. His previous experience with this weapon has been very apparent. Claire was definitely a good choice for training today. Switching up opponents is good for getting used to adapting to different people's fighting styles as well, and she's even benefiting from this too.

"So what say you, fleshbag?" Dictatious said to Claire as he accepted the Parlok Spear back from Angor, "Care for round twelve?"

"Ready when you are!" 

Angor started to walk back to his place under the tree to watch them, when he spotted NotEnrique, who had come down from the branches and was talking to Jim.

The Trollhunter... looks upset.

When Angor got to them, Jim's frustrated gaze turned to him.  **"... Is something wrong?"**  Angor asked.

"Did you take that spear from Strickler's office?" Jim asked back.

 **"Yes."** The complete and utter nonchalance of that admission threw Jim for a loop. Angor also added, **"The Changeling could have told you that."**

"Oh boy..." NotEnrique mumbled, cringing at what he knew was to come.

Irritation jabbed at Jim, though so far he had managed to keep it in check, but his voice was still a dead giveaway of his unhappy mood. "And you didn't even  _talk_ to Strickler?"

 **"I... fail to see the problem."** Angor said, and he  _was_ being sincere.  **"He has another, and was only using them for decoration."**

Jim almost couldn't believe it. Angor had been understanding enough to be able to _talk to him_  when he'd been feeling sad about Draal, but  _can't see the problem with breaking into Strickler's office for a glorified fork?_

"The problem is that you  _stole_ it, Angor!"

The rise in volume of Jim's voice caught both Claire and Dictatious's attention. They had stopped sparring and looked over at the scene.

"Do you  _realize_ that Strickler and I just spent the afternoon  _evacuating_ the high school?!" When Angor still looked a little confused, Jim elaborated. "All we knew was that somebody  _got into Strickler's office and took a weapon_! Do you  _really_ think our first thought would be 'Oh, obviously NotEnrique and Angor Rot have it' and not, I don't know,  _'Some vengeful Changeling just got into Strickler's office and took a weapon and could still be in the school'?!"_

With Morgana acting up again, who wants to take chances that some worshiper of hers is going around shish-kabobbing teenagers for whatever reason? Definitely not Jim.

"Look, I- I  _get_ that you're used to just going ahead and  _doing_ things, but you need to  _communicate_ with people before you do something like that, okay? You should have just  _asked_ Strickler! Is that so hard?"

With that apathetic look on his face not changing even slightly as Jim went on, the Trollhunter couldn't even tell if he was actually  _getting through_  to Angor Rot. Not until he spoke, that is.

 **"It wasn't my intention to trouble you."**  He said, calm-voiced.  **"It will not happen again."**

Jim squinted and took a long hard look at Angor, trying to determine how sincere he was really being. "... Good. That's all I wanted to make sure of." He eventually replied. “Put it back. If you want to borrow something, you can  _ask_.”

Done with the conversation, Jim walked off with an irate sigh.

“Umm…” Claire said awkwardly, “I should… uh…” She simply didn’t continue the thought and followed Jim.

Still, Angor Rot’s expression seemed undisturbed. NotEnrique still looked uncomfortable. He awkwardly stared as the taller troll as he went over to Dictatious to take the spear.

“Unfortunate.” Dictatious said as he passed the Parlok Spear to him. “But it wasn’t a complete waste, at least. Got a good few bouts in with the girl.”

 **“That is true.”**  Angor agreed. A shame their idea didn’t work out, but it wasn’t a total loss.  **“Do not leave the shade. I will be back.”  
**

  
  


“Yeah, Angor had it. Nothing to worry about, I talked to him and told him to return it.” 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do  _that_.” Strickler’s voice, obviously still nervous of the assassin, said through Jim’s cell. “He can just  _keep_  it-“

“Hey! Don’t enable him!” Jim said back. “He’s not allowed to have scary-privilege!”

When Claire walked into his room, Jim cut the conversation short.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now… Yeah, no problem. Talk to you later.” He hung up, then sighed.

“You okay…?” Claire asked.

“He’s a millennia-old, super-powerful troll sorcerer that’s come back from death  _twice_  and used to steal Trollhunter souls, yet  _somehow_  I feel like I just kicked a dog!”

Claire walked over and placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder, “I mean, you have to be clear with him, Jim… He needed to hear all that. Besides, it didn’t look like he took it personally.” But she added under her breath, “Then again, it’s hard to tell with him…”

“I know, he’s just been…  _so_  cooperative since we found him,  _way_  more so than I ever thought he’d be, even helping Dictatious out this much…” Jim sighed. “I get that he didn’t mean to cause any trouble, but  _how could he think that was fine?_ ”

“I know…” Claire said. “Sorry I didn’t say anything to them about it. I didn’t know it was Strickler’s.”

Jim shrugged, a tired but accepting sigh emerging from him. “S’okay. We got it all figured out, anyway…”

They both turned the head at the sound of the door opening, and Toby walking in. “Heyyy… sorry to interrupt.” He said. “Can we talk?”

 

 

Yesterday did not work out as well has they had hoped, what with Dictatious’s weapon of choice being out of reach now.

So, for today, it was time to double down on hand-to-hand combat.

They’d been at it for at least two hours by now, and they were going at it  _hard_.

Dictatious was out of breath at this point, but Angor was still going strong. There was hardly a moment’s break Dic got from the other’s attacks. He still was managing to hold his ground, but his performance was definitely lagging.

 **“I _know_  you can do better than this.”** Angor growled, landing hit after hit.

Dictatious blocked most, but not all of them. Frustration getting the better of him, he snapped, “Easy for  _you_  to say! You can  _see!_ ”

Surprisingly to Dictatious, that got Angor to halt his attacks.  **“Is _that_  what you think the problem is?”**

Dictatious blinked, confused. He raised an eyebrow at the strange popping sound he heard from the other, and the foreign incantation he spoke before dropping a small object to the ground.

 **“There.”**  Angor then said.  **“Fair game.”**

“You- You just  _took out_  your  _eye_?” Dictatious said in disbelief.

 **“Now, I see only black.”**  Angor confirmed.  **“Is this _even enough_  a fight for you?”**

Dictatious swallowed. But, he readied for more of a fight.

Angor shot at him like a bullet. They locked in a series of strikes and dodges, an intricate dance of battle breaking out in the Domzalski backyard.

Dictatious was besieged by attacks from all different angles, too fast to keep up with. If anything, all these training sessions has done wonders for his stamina, but it was  _abundantly_  clear for him to see that he was still  _far_  from on par with the dangerous assassin. Even with Angor going easy on him. Even with him blinded as well.

He would evade occasionally. He would get a hit in, here and there. But Angor kept going strong. Dictatious wondered if he even did anything to his eye at  _all_.

It was when everything went silent that Dictatious could expect an attack.  Angor moved like a stealthy viper, soundless as he moved, as he circled, readying his next strike. Dictatious knew it was coming. He just didn’t know  _when_.

Until he could hear it coming. It was only a second’s warning, but it was enough to alert him on the other’s movement.

He panicked.

“ _στοπ_!”

A burst of flames erupted from Dictatious. It threw Angor Rot back with incredible force. Dictious’s jaw dropped, unclear on what just happened. Angor looked even more surprised.

“Angor…?” Dictatious hesitantly said. “What just-?”

 **“You never told me…”** Angor rumbled, Dictatious able to  _hear_  in his voice the wicked grin forming on his face, **“… that you can do _magic_.”**

“I can’t!” Dictatious said, then he backtracked. “Well, I mean – Blinkous and I used to dabble in hexes and such when we were  _young_ , but-!”

**“Do it again.”**

“ _What_.”

Angor chuckled darkly.  **“That spell. Do it again.”**

“Wh- I don’t know  _how_?” Dictatious countered.  “It just…  _happened_.”

 **“Dictatious. There are very few trolls with the natural aptitude for magic to _accidentally_  do something like that.”** Angor said.  **“Whatever you were feeling that led up to that moment, recreate it in your mind. Do it again.”**

“… Ehh…” Confused, Dictatious wondered how exactly one recreates the feeling of being continuously shot at, but he at least…  _tried_.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on remembering the strange feeling of that mystical energy bursting out around him, tried to force that energy out again.

Nothing… nothing….

Wait.

He could feel a small spark, miniscule even, and lasting no more than a second, but he could  _feel_  it.

And Angor definitely heard it. His smirk grew wider, his voice was like a pleased purr.  **“Well. We can call this a day, for tomorrow, we will be engaging in a _different_  kind of training.”**

Dictatious sighed with relief that he’d at least get some rest now. That was more on his mind than the supposed anomynal act of magic he just performed. Still, he stared down at his hands, perplexed.

His attention returned to Angor – he could swear the blurry figure looked shorter than normal. Hunched over, maybe?

“What are you  _doing_ , Angor?”

Angor Rot was quiet for a good few seconds.  **“… Nothing worth noting.”  
**

"... Did you..." Dictatious squinted, unable to believe the words about to come out of his own mouth. "... Did you  _lose_ your eye?"

**"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not."**

A long and awkward stretch of silence followed. Dictatious's jaw dropped.

"Great Gronka Morka. You  _did_."

 **"... I did, yes."** Angor then admitted.

Dictatious took a looong, slow inhale of breath. The world in that moment seemed all quiet, hinging on that next, exasperated word to leave Dictatious's mouth. 

_"HOW?!"_

  
  
  


"Of course! Because of COURSE that would happen!" Dictatious continued to vent as he blindly searched the grass. "You know, most trolls lose their  _horngazels_ , or their  _gnome traps_ , but oh no, not you! One working eye between us, and you go and LOSE IT!  _AN ENTIRE EYEBALL!!!"_

 **"Yes. You have repeated that many times."**  Angor replied in his dry as ever voice, feeling around some nearby rocks.  **"It's not as though this is the first time it's happened."**

"HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU HAVE TO LOSE AN EYEBALL BEFORE YOU LEARN TO, I DON'T KNOW,  _INVEST IN SOME EYE POCKETS OR SOMETHING?!"_

When NotEnrique entered the backyard to see two trolls (one of them shouting with the same level of anger as a shaken wasp's nest) fumbling around in the grass, he was very confused. "Um." He said out, grabbing both of their attention. "Am I interrupting somethin'?"

"Oh,  _not at all_." Dictatious snapped immediately, glaring in the direction of the Changeling's voice. "Unless you count looking for Angor Rot's  _stupid eye._ "

**"At least mine works."**

"YEAH, A LOT OF GOOD THAT'S DOING US  _NOW_ , ISN'T IT?!"

"His  _eye_?" NotEnrique repeated. "Y'mean it's... not in his  _face_?"

Now both trolls glared in his direction.

"... Okay. Point taken." The Changeling cringed. But  _internally_ , boy, was he ever losing it with laughter.

"Maybe, instead of pointing out the obvious..." Dictatious said, "... you could actually make yourself  _useful_."

"Oh, I'm on it, don't you worry." 

Unfortunately, NotEnrique's idea of 'making himself useful' in this case meant documenting this hilariously golden incident. With a click of his phone, he angled the camera just right to get everyone in the picture and took a selfie with the most shit-eating grin, cackling as he walked away. It was only a moment later he noticed the not-so-polite addition Dictatious sneaked into his photo.

"OI, FOURARMS!" NotEnrique shouted over to them. "WHO TAUGHT YOU SUCH RUDE HAND GESTURES?"

Whoever it was, the Changeling would have to give them a high-five for such genius. 

Being blatantly ignored by the larger green troll at this point, NotEnrique simply cackled again and went back on his way inside. As he was leaving that fiasco, he noticed an unnatural glint in the leaves of a nearby shrub. 

Ohohoho. Could it  _be?_

Hopping over to inspect the shrub, he reached his stubby little arm through the leaves and felt around, hand falling on a smooth, round object lodged between some rocks and roots. With a few good tugs, he pulled out none other than Angor Rot's eye.

NotEnrique's smirk grew wider, and he held it up to examine it. Casting a glance back again, he saw two trolls still stumbling around to find this thing. Could Angor not actually  _see_ out of it right now? Weird.

Now, NotEnrique  _could_ be a good Samaritan and return this eye to the two blind trolls. But no.

Oh, no no no.

He had a  _much_ better idea.

 

 

"I'm sure it will turn up."

Dictatious had moved on from anger and, by some unknown means, found himself actually trying to comfort the other troll. Maybe he was starting to feel a  _little_ bit bad for Angor Rot, who hadn't taken his head out of his hands or stopped making that low, frustrated growling noise since they sat in the living room to wait for one of the Trollhunters.

"I mean, it can't have gotten  _far_." Dictatious said. "We just need a working set of eyes, is all."

 **"It should not be lost in the _first_ place." **Angor rumbled in annoyance.

As Dictatious was trying to put the other troll at ease, he was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open so hard it slammed against the wall. Into the room walked Claire Núñez, looking  _very_ displeased.

 _"What is this?!"_ She snapped, holding up the obsidian-like object that was Angor Rot's eye in her hand.

Dictatious squinted. "... Neither of us can see right now, child." He said dispassionately. "But I'm hoping it's Angor's eye."

Angor lifted his head.  **"You found it already?"**  He inquired.

"Oh yeah, I found it, alright." Claire said with a smile faker than Jim's will to live. "Care to explain to me,  _Angor Rot_ , what it was doing IN MY BATHROOM?!"

**"... What."**

Dictatious's eyes went from squinting to opening up wide as dinner plates. "Oh- Oh, you think he-  _Ohh_."

Well  _that's_ not good. 

 

  
  


"Ask Toby's Nana if she needs anything while you're over there, Jim." Barbara called over as she 'helped’ Javier Nuñez with some cooking. "She's taking on a lot by letting all those trolls stay under her roof."

"I'll be sure to ask," Jim replied as he pulled a plain blue hoodie over his head. His armour was needed for walking in sunlight, sure, but it was nice to get out of it every once in a while, even if it meant having to stay under awnings and roofs. Jim took a look in the kitchen on his way out to see how they were doing, and he just had to snicker at the looks of Javier dying a little inside as his mother clearly had no idea what she was doing with their meal prep.

"Mum, that's corn starch, not flour." Jim pointed out when Barbara had started scooping from the wrong container. 

"Oh. Huh." She said, nonchalance galore as she poured it right back into the container. 

The cry for help on Javier's face was hilarious, and Jim regretted having to leave the poor man alone cooking with his mother of all people, but he had places to be (trolls to check on) so he said his goodbyes and headed out the door.

Things have been going somewhat well, give or take an incident or two... Jim was pretty sure he'd find everything in order at Toby's house. How much trouble could they possibly get into, especially with Claire there to keep an eye on them?  
  


And when would these poor children learn to expect nothing but chaos at every turn?  
  


Jim opened the door and the first thing he heard was shouting. What quickly followed was the sight of his girlfriend smacking the crap out of Angor with a book she must've grabbed off the shelf, yelling and cursing angrily, topped off with a distressed-looking Dictatious next to them trying to talk Claire down from her fury. 

_"DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU'D GET AWAY WITH THAT, YOU GROSS, DISGUSTING, SON OF A-"_

"Human, would you  _please_ calm down!" Dictatious exasperatedly pleaded, though he dared not get between the two for concern of getting caught in the girl's wrath. "He had taken it out for training purposes, we didn't know where it  _went_ -"

 _"The hell kind of weak-ass excuse is that?!?!"_ She snapped at him, Dictatious flinching back as he didn't want to incur her wrath any more than it had been. "You seriously think I'd  _believe_ that?!"

Angor, looking very tired of literally everything going on right now, grabbed the book as Claire was about to hit him with it again, holding it  there.  **"For the _last time,_ Trollhunter,"** he growled at her with low patience,  **"I had _no part_  in putting it there. Now if you would just  _return_ my  _eye_ -"**

 _"BULL!!!"_ Claire shouted, starting to kick at him instead while trying to pull the book back.  _"I should throw it in a WOOD CHIPPER after where I found it!!!"_

"Woah woah woah, Claire, hey!" Jim stepped in, gently pulling her away from Angor to separate them. He looked to each the eyeless Angor, the on-edge Dictatious, and the ever so furious Claire. "What's going on?"

Jim, understandably, felt a twinge of fear in his heart when his girlfriend turned to him with her rage-filled eyes. "I found  _this_ -" She shouted, holding up Angor's eye for Jim to see "-hiding in my _bathroom!_ "

That got Jim to do a double take. He looked at Angor, squinting, for he wasn't sure if that was something someone like him would  _actually do_... "... Were you  _seriously_ trying to spy on my girlfriend?"

 ** _"No!"_**  Angor exasperatedly denied it for what must've been the 30th time.  **"For what _ridiculous_ reason do you think I would do something so  _foolish_ -"**

"Oh,  _I can think of a few reasons, you creepy-!"_

"Claire, hey-" Jim cut her off, trying his best to keep the situation from escalating. "Let's just-"

Dictatious kept his distance, definitely not keen on getting caught in any crossfire. Still though, he was curious to find out the cause of all this confusion... He was  _there_ when Angor lost his eye, and of all the things Dictatious had Angor pegged as, a deviant of  _that_ low a level was not one of those things. Not to mention he couldn't even  _see_ out of his eye right now. So how would it end up in Claire's  _bathroom_ of all places?

Then, amidst the chaos, Dictatious heard it. His ears perked at the wild cackling from one unholy terror of a Changeling from the corner of the living room. NotEnrique had almost laughed himself to tears, hardly even able to hold his phone still as he recorded the whole thing while everyone was distracted, right from when the pandemonium began. The gears in Dictatious's head started to turn - the Changeling  _was_ there in the backyard with them, after all - and when everything suddenly snapped together and made sense, he whipped around in the direction of NotEnrique's voice and called him out. "YOU!!!"

Everybody froze. All attention in the room was turned to NotEnrique, who had fallen completely silent and wide-eyed.

 _"Mi hermano..."_  Claire said, voice a dangerous combination of sickeningly sweet and deathly hostile, "Did you plant Angor Rot's eye in my bathroom for your own  _twisted_ amusement?"

"Uuuhhhhhhh..." He held up his phone. "Well, not just mine! I got a good half-million people or so on this livestream, y'know!"

All of Claire's anger shifted to a new target.  _"YOU LITTLE SLIMEBALL!!!"_

"... Uh-oh." 

A new pandemonium was about to break loose, and this is one NotEnrique wouldn't stick around for. He scurried away as fast as he could, darting past his scene of chaos and shooting up the stairs like a bullet.

 _"Get back here!"_  Claire shouted, charging after him.

That left Jim, Angor Rot, and Dictatious together in the living room with a mutual feeling of... 'what just happened'.

Angor sighed in frustration and put his head back in his hands.

"Well, at least the true culprit was found out." Dic shrugged. "And you got your eye back, right?"

**"She's still holding it."**

"Oh dear." 

From the sounds of that rampageous crashing and yelling from upstairs, Claire had caught up with her Changeling brother. Jim sighed and awkwardly patted Angor's shoulder. "I'll get it back from her. Give me five minutes."

  
  


"... Sorry...?" 

Claire obviously felt very awkward about the whole thing. She rubbed the back of her head, awkwardly fiddling with a few of her hair clips.

Sighing in annoyance, Angor popped the now-properly-working eyeball back where it belonged and grunted.  **"It is... alright. The circumstances _were_ suspicious."** He replied dryly.  **"But I can promise you that I have _no_ interest in whelps, let alone human ones."**

“… Valid.” She replied. “Next time you might want to be a  _little_  more careful with your removeable organs around that  _horror_.”

"Well 'ey, s'not like you could see out of the thing anyways. Wouldn'ta put it there if you could've." NotEnrique said, justifying his actions (in his own head, anyway) but still keeping a safe distance from his angry sister. He crawled down from the bookshelf he’d been sitting, snickering. "Was all just for some innocent shits and giggles. No harm no foul, right?"

His eye narrowed at the Changeling and he growled. **"You are brave to assume I won't remove your _limbs_  from your  _body_  after that trouble you caused."**

The next laugh that came from NotEnrique was one of mostly nervousness, and he took a couple steps back when it looked like Angor might actually make a move for him.

"Easy now." Dictatious said, holding an arm out to discourage Angor from acting on that threat. "As much as witnessing you follow through on that threat would be  _incredibly_ entertaining, that would get you into  _far_ worse trouble."

“Yeah, I’d like my brother to stay alive, please.”

“I second that!” NotEnrique piped up. “Besides, Diccy would miss me too much for this alone!” He held up his phone, and clicked.

At full-volume blast, “Blinded By The Light” started playing.

“… Okay. I take it back.” Dictatious growled, four golden balls of fire sparking to life in his hands.

NotEnrique bolted, Dictatious chasing after him. “GET BACK HERE, PEST!!!”

 _“Hey hey!!! No magic in the house!!!”_  Claire shouted, also chasing after them.

Cue the sounds of loud crashing and disaster.

 **“Well. He picked _that_  spell up fast.”** Angor simply said.

“Oh boy…” Jim chuckled stiffly. He started to head over to help until he heard a triumphant “GOTCHA!” from Claire.

“… Sounds like she’s got that handled.” He said, a grunt of agreement from Angor.

Convenient too, as Jim now had time to pick up the phone that started ringing in his pocket.

“Hey, Tobes. What’s up?”

Angor watched inquisitively as Jim’s face shifted.

“Yeah… okay. That’s probably a good idea. Alright – we’ll meet there tomorrow.”

After hanging up, he looked to Angor Rot, a clear intention on his mind.

“I need to ask you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback is appreciated! This story is all outlined already, I just need to finish the chapters now. :)


	6. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Everyone is sad, but at least they all have something in common. Merlin sees a new use for Angor Rot.**

A house that was usually filled with the noise of hopeful Trollhunters laid completely silent in the chilly glow of morning.

That in and of itself was suspicious.

Perhaps it was the eerie silence that made the structure’s haunting creaks just that much more noticeable.

A half-asleep Dictatious wandered the house with no other souls to speak of, blissfully unaware of the dark gaze bearing into him, unaware of the trap set in place.

Watching.

Waiting.

There would be no warning to the clueless Conundrum, no  _hope_  of survival.

The hunter made his move, lunging at his unsuspecting prey with all the force of a flock of Stalklings.

A thunderous crash broke the silence ( _and_  the coffee table), many Trollish profanities being shouted out by the startled Dictatious as he tumbled across the floor, being pinned down in seconds by his attacker.

Rather than the terror one might feel at being jumped by a violent killer, Dictatious was more annoyed than anything.

 _“Angor Rot!”_  Dictatious shouted in exasperation. “ _Must_  you do that?!”

 **“You should always be prepared for an attack**.” Angor said, his voice not betraying the smirk that crossed his face.  **“You never know when an enemy could strike.”**

He helped Dictatious back up, the smaller troll rolling his eyes and sighing in annoyance. “Well you would  _think_ , in the comforts of one’s own  _dwelling_ -“

 **“You were _too_  comfortable, not alert at all. That’s the fourth time I’ve gotten you.”** Angor said.  **“You didn’t even se-“**

Angor cut himself off immediately when he realized the poor choice of words he was about to use.

Didn’t shut up soon enough, though, as Dictatious immediately squinted at him. “Go on. Finish that thought.” He challenged. “I didn’t  _what_ , Angor?  _See it coming_ , perhaps?”

Angor was dead silent for a second there as he carefully chose his words. He spoke again, slowly.  **“You… did not _anticipate_  my ambush.”** He said instead.

Dictatious gave him a most sarcastic grin. “Mm-hm. Nice save.”

Their banter was cut short by the entrance of the fair Claire to the living room. She took one look at the broken coffee table, then gave the pair of trolls the most scolding stare you could imagine.

“Guys,” She sighed irately, “Do you have  _any_  idea how fast our families go through furniture? Because it’s  _unnaturally fast_.”

 **“… Apologies.”**  Angor replied. Dictatious only snickered under his breath.

Claire rolled her eyes, but she was used to such mishaps by now, having lived with NotEnrique and all. “Don’t worry about it.” She replied. “We’ve got to get going, Toby and Jim are waiting for us at the Heartstone already.”

 

 _What_  it was that they were looking into, neither Angor nor Dictatious were completely sure. (Technically speaking, Dictatious’s presence wasn’t requested, but who’s going to stop him from tagging along? Nothing  _better_  to do.)

As per routine, Claire Horngazeled their way into Trollmarket, they embarked down the crystal stairway, and headed straight for the Heartstone where the boys were waiting.

They walked (mostly) in silence… up until Dictatious noticed something out of the ordinary.

His cloudy eyes glanced up at Angor, utter confusion in them, “Is something the matter?”

Angor’s teeth gritted.  **“… Why do you ask.”**

“You’ve gone rather… tense.” Dictatious pointed out, one eyebrow raising.  “You weren’t before.”

He’s  _never_  tense, not that Dictatious’s noticed, and he’s an observant troll who’s had his hand on the other’s arm  _multiple_  times for guidance. Even while training,  _especially_  while training, he moves as relaxed and fluidly as ever.

So, this is an odd occurrence…

**“… It is nothing. A… strange feeling, nothing more.”**

Now both Dictatious’s brows raised and his eyes squinted unbelievingly. “… Hmm.”

“Hey! Slowpokes!” Claire called over, having gotten much farther ahead of them. “You coming?”

 

“Okay, Tobes. Everyone’s here.”

Jim, Claire, Angor Rot and Dictatious all stood in wait at the base of the Heartstone. With Angor Rot so close, as Toby suspected, it glowed vibrantly.

“Okay.” Toby said, turning around. “Then let’s head on down.”

“’Down’?” Dictatious repeated. Angor’s expression darkened.

Down. Down where Morgana had been imprisoned all those years in the Heartstone’s core.

What is this Trollhunter getting at…?

 

The second they got down there, Angor had tensed again.

At least this time, Dictatious could  _somewhat_  understand why.

Even if he couldn’t see the extent of the damage himself.

Shattered fragments of Heartstone lay strewn amongst the ground, alongside the scattered dust of troll remains. The remnants of jagged Heartstone from which Morgana broke free hung over them like a chandelier of death, dripping a glowing, gold blood as if its veins had only just been cut today.

Silently, solemnly, the children drew closer.

“You were right, Tobes…” Jim murmured.

Jim and Toby were obviously offput. To Claire, this feeling was fearfully familiar.

She looked back at Angor, who’d remained frozen in place. Dictatious was giving him an odd look at this point too.

“Angor…?” She hesitantly called over.

He  _heard_  her, sure. He  _tried_  to reply. But he couldn’t.

For she wasn’t the only voice he heard.

This wasn’t the only place he could see.

_“My fearsome servant…”_

The emerald glow of magical light. He remembered how blinding it was, Merlin’s staff illuminating this whole room.

_“Stay true, and your devotion shall be rewarded…”_

The deafening boom of Her golden powers blasting screaming Gumm-Gumms around him into pieces.

_“Waver… and I will destroy you.”_

Her hand touching his face.

**_“Once and for all.”_ **

The rumbling thunderous sounds surrounded him as fallen troll remains spiralled into the Eternal Night.

“ _Angor_.” Dictatious tightened his grip on the assassin’s arm to get his attention. Angor jumped as he was pulled back into reality, that motion earning an even stranger look from Dic. Now the boys were giving him worried looks too.

“Hey…” Jim spoke up next. “You okay, man…?”

Again, he found himself unable to reply. All he could manage was a slow nod, eyes locked on the dripping shell that was Morgana’s broken cage.

Claire frowned, following his stare to the Heartstone, then looking back to him. “Well, um…” She said, “We were going to go take a closer look… Are you comin-?“

 **“ _No_.”**  Angor stepped back immediately at just the  _thought_  of getting closer. For just a second, something almost akin to  _fear_  had taken him over.  **“I just- No…”**  He seemed to come back to his senses, and he sent a regretful look their way.  **“I’m… sorry…”**

“It’s okay!” Toby piped up, immediately laying on the reassurance. “You’ve been a big help already by coming down here. You guys can head back, if you want. We’ll be along.” With a smile, he added, “Besides, you guys wanted to practice magic stuff today, right?”

Angor’s eye looked at the jagged overhang of stone one last time. He again gave the kids a slow nod, and took his chance to leave, a still-dubious Dictatious giving him the side-eye as he followed.

“… Are you  _sure_  you’re alright?” Dictatious asked, squinting. This was  _very_  unusual behaviour for him, from what Dic’s seen. He’s usually so much more  _stoic_.

 **“… I’m fine…”** Angor still insisted, insincere as he may have sounded.

_Sure you are. If that were true, your lies might actually be **convincing**._

Oh, well.  Dictatious’s curiosity may go unsatisfied, but he honestly didn’t care enough to pry for an answer he clearly wouldn’t be getting, so he stifled those thoughts and just followed along.

Claire watched them go, a frown on her face. Jim had turned to Toby. “You sure we don’t need him anymore for this?”

Toby nodded. “Yeah… He’s pretty much confirmed my hunch.” He turned to the Heartstone piece above them. “To be honest, I think it’s better he not be here for this.”

Now Claire turned their way too. “What do you mean?”

Toby pulled off his backpack, Jim helping him carefully pull a small video camera out of it.

“… I’m not saying I don’t  _want_  to trust him.” Toby first made clear. “… but if there’s some way that Morgana’s been finding out what we’re doing, I think  _this_  camera location should stay between just us.” He looked at his friends for confirmation.

They nodded in understanding.

Toby moved the camera to a well-concealed spot in some rocks.

During the Eternal Night, Merlin said Morgana had a reliance on the Heartstone’s power.

If that still holds true now, which all the evidence so far seems to  _suggest_ , then  _maybe_ …

 

 

On the way out of Trollmarket, Dictatious paid extra attention to Angor Rot’s behaviour.

And again, there was a brief moment in time in which Angor tensed up again, for  _just_  a moment. Dictatious couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed to be in around the same area as last time, too.

How peculiar.

**“Merlin.”**

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Angor’s voice calling out the wizard’s presence near them.

 **“What are _you_  doing here?”** Angor said, a hint of suspicion in his tone that he so  _happened_  to be down there at the same time they all were.

Merlin was hardly even paying attention to the trolls, looking all around their surroundings and examining every inch as if Trollmarket was some elaborate ‘Where’s Waldo’ puzzle. “Oh, the same as you.” He said with leisure. “Investigating.”

… Right.

Angor didn’t bother asking him to elaborate. He knew he wouldn’t get a straight answer.

He was about to move with Dictatious past the wizard, but Dictatious paused.

“Angor…” He casted a quick thoughtful glance at the blur that was Merlin before aiming his eyes at Angor again, “… while we’re here, would you mind grabbing something from my library?” He asked. “An… Anamnesis Stone, it should just be on the main desk.”

Angor must’ve still been too out of it to not catch the look he gave Merlin, or to ask any questions as to why the Conundrum would require such a thing right now… He simply nodded and went right to the library.

While Angor was doing that, Dictatious turned to Merlin. He was pretty sure the wizard was off poking around at something else, turned away from him.

“… Say, wizard…” Dictatious spoke up, “What sort of places lie near here?”

The path he’s used to is the way to the library, but he’s not too familiar with much else of Trollmarket, especially after the earthquakes.

“What, can’t find your way around?” Merlin said offhandedly as he looked around.

… Whether that was a jab on his lack of sight or not, Dictatious wasn’t sure. “Well…” He said, blinking a few times, “excuse me for not having the best sense of  _direction_  around here.”

“Hmm.” Merlin sighed, as though speaking with the troll were  _such_  an inconvenience. “Well. There’s the expected rows of marketstands… What’s left of them anyways… let’s see… the tattoo parlour, the Gyre Station, of course…”

“The Gyre Station…” Dictatious repeated under his breath, a hand placed on his chin in thought.

**“Dictatious.”**

Dictatious turned at the sound of Angor Rot’s return, the taller troll lightly brushing against his arm so Dictatious knew where to put his hand.  **“Is this what you wanted?”**  Angor asked, passing off the object to him.

“Ah, yes.” Dictatious answered, fiddling with the golden stone in his hands. “That’s all I needed. We can go.”

Angor seemed relieved to hear that, and  _very_  eager to get out of here.

Merlin watched them go.

Specifically, he watched Angor Rot.

“… Hmm…”

 

**“Focus…”**

Almost immediately upon leaving Trollmarket, Angor had been much more relaxed again, like nothing ever even happened.

Perhaps Dictatious was letting it distract him too much, for the simple instruction of ‘Focus’ seemed very hard to follow today. They were trying to recreate that simple fireball spell from before, but basically the only thing Dic’s managed to produce so far is a pathetic, fizzling spark or two.

 **“Don’t try to force it.”**  Angor said calmly, seeing Dictatious’s struggle. The smaller troll sighed, clearly discouraged.

**“Practicing in the magical arts can be difficult.”**

“It seemed so much easier the  _first_  time.” Dictatious said, then looked to Angor and added, “It’s  _always_  so easy for  _you_.”

 **“My powers came with sacrifice.”**  Angor reminded him.  **“Yours are natural, they must be honed like any other skill. You wouldn’t expect a whelp just learning how to walk to engage in a game of PyroBligst, would you?”**

As usual, Angor had a point. Dictatious still won’t acknowledge that verbally, but Angor’s starting to be able to tell when Dictatious begrudgingly agrees with him. He sighed again in annoyance.

Angor tilted his head, watching the novice with a thoughtful stare. He circled around, and sat down in front of him.  **“Sit.”**

Dic looked confused, but did as he said.

 **“You’re trying too hard.”**  Angor continued.  **“Such sorcery, you will find, can be exhausting to you at first. Any magic you conjure out of _strain_  will end up causing your body and mind more stress than it’s worth.”**

“O… kay…”  Dictatious frowned. “If ‘trying’ is the problem, then what am I  _supposed_  to do?”

 **“Yesterday, you managed to render simple flames more than once**.” The more experienced magic-user pointed out.  **“You hadn’t been thinking so hard about it. You just _did_  it. You need to get used to that feeling, let things flow naturally.”**

Angor Rot extended a hand, a puff of violet flames taking on a ball-like shape in his outstretched palm. The glowing fire held Dictatious’s attention. Blurry as it was to him, the brightness was still captivating.  **“Hold out your hand.”**  When a look of hesitancy crossed Dictatious’s face, Angor went on to assure him,  **“It will not hurt.”**

Dictatious still seemed unsure, but he was at least willing do as Angor said, slowly offering his hand.

 **“I’m going to pass this flame off to you.”**  Angor said, moving his free hand just below Dictatious’s just in case the novice hesitated.  **“Try to sustain it for as long as you can manage. Pay close attention to what you feel.”**

With that said, and a tentative nod from Dictatious, Angor raised his hand with the fireball over Dictatious’s. Mumbling under his breath, some incantation Dictatious couldn’t make out, Angor Rot slowly tilted his hand, letting the fire pour into Dictatious’s palm.

 **“It’s okay.”**  Angor reassured him again when Dic looked about ready to pull away.  **“Just be calm, and pay attention.”**

“ _Uhhhh_ -“ Instincts and logic told him the fire magic would hurt, so it was a strange feeling to…  _not_  feel pain. Even stranger, the disorienting tingling sensation creeping around his extended limb. It was unsettling, as shown by the look on Dictatious’s face, but he tried to hold it steady, watching with a squint as the glowing blur twitched and flickered in his possession.

The look of befuddlement on the smaller troll was mildly amusing, but something behind Dictatious distracted Angor for a second. Jim and Claire were watching them curiously from where they had leaned against the house.

Hmm. Wonder how long they’ve been there.

His attention went back to Dictatious when he’d almost dropped the fireball, Angor catching his hand and steadying it.  **“Is it tiring you out?”**

Dictatious nodded and sighed in annoyance. “I don’t understand  _how_ …” He huffed. “It doesn’t even feel like it  _weighs_  anything…”

 **“Like I said, using magic can be exhausting – though it’s not a _physical_  kind of exertion.” **Angor explained, pinching the flame and causing it to fizzle out.  **“How did it feel?”**

“Absolutely  _bizarre_. How do you  _do_  that all the time?” Dictatious wondered, perplexed. “I thought my arm was going to  _mutate_  or something for a good few seconds there.”

 **“You’ll get used to it.”**  Angor replied, a slight smile ghosting his face for a second.  **“But first… What helps you relax?”**

That got Dictatious to laugh. “ _Relax?_ ” He repeated. “Sounds like a foreign word coming from  _you_.”

Angor merely raised an eyebrow.  **“You keep pushing yourself too hard. With magic, that will not work.”**  He asserted once more.  **“So, I will ask again. What helps you relax?”**

As usual, Angor was being serious. Dictatious frowned, looking down at the grass as he considered the question. You’d think, considering recent times, the answer would be something along the lines of spending time with Nancy, or watching his crime shows on TV, the habits that were becoming most usual to him… but…

… The first thought to come to his mind was…  _Blinky_. How well they had gotten along that one night, remembering the good times  _before_ the Battle of Killahead…  _that_  was relaxing.

Dictatious seeming to have landed on a memory, Angor again instructed him to hold out his hand.

 **“Close your eyes, keep that thought in mind, and try again.”**  He said, standing up.  **“I’ll be right back.”**

While Dictatious did that, Angor headed over to Jim and Claire.

 **“Apologies for making you wait.”**  He said to them.  **“Did you need something?”**

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Jim replied. “We just wanted to make sure you’re okay?”

Seeming confused, Angor blinked.  **“… I’m… fine?”**

“You sure?” Claire asked, frowning slightly. “You seemed pretty shaken up earlier…”

Ahh. Of course that’s what they meant.

Angor’s teeth gritted together for a second, like he was biting back some words, and he looked from Claire to Jim and back.  **“I am _fine_ , Trollhunters.”** He repeated, more sternly.  **“You shouldn’t be wasting your concerns on _that_.”**

The children exchanged a look.

“… If you say so.” Jim said to him, but he was clearly unconvinced.

“I, uh, hope you didn’t mind we were watching your lesson, there,” Claire told him, changing the subject and putting on a small and awkward smile. “I’m surprised he’s still listening to you.”

 **“Hmm.”**  Angor glanced Dictatious’s way as Claire and Jim did.  **“He is crotchety and stubborn. But, not unteachable.”**

Truthfully, he learns fairly quickly. A good trait.

“Well…” Jim spoke up, placing a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “We’ll let you get back to it.”

Angor gave them a nod, and they both went their separate ways.

Claire looked back occasionally as they left them. Jim giving her a questioning look.

“… I knew what it felt like to have  _Her_  in my head.” She said quietly. “It must’ve been  _hell_  dealing with Her as long as he did…”

Jim then frowned, also looking Angor’s way. “… Yeah…”

 

Angor stared at the Trollhunters one last time before they left the yard, catching their worried glances. His eye narrowed slightly, unsure of how to interpret their… concern.

… Maybe he’s just… not used to it.

He sighed under his breath, and returned to Dictatious. Upon seeing the smaller troll’s progress, his eye widened slightly in surprise.

Eyes still closed, a sparkling amber flame hovered, unwavering, in Dictatious’s hand.

A half-smile snuck on Angor’s face for a second as he quietly took his seat in front of Dictatious again.  **“I knew you would get the hang of it.”**

Angor’s voice surprised Dictatious. He opened his eyes, and looked even more surprised at witnessing what he’d produced. “… Oh!”

Angor Rot chuckled, though too quietly for even Dic to notice.  **“You see how your repose can pay off now?”**

Dictatious could hardly find it in himself to be annoyed that Angor was right yet again, for he was grinning with excitement at the magic he made, playing with the flames with one of his other hands. “So…” He said, his smile turning to more of a smirk as his eyes looked Angor’s way. “What _’_ s next, then?”

 

~

 

“Dumbzalski!”

Toby turned around to the sound of a familiar voice down the street calling at them – Aaarrrgghh had eaten the kitty litter again this morning, so of course, Toby was sent to buy a new box.

“Hey, Steve.” Toby greeted him. “Something up?”

“Look, I talked to Brody and Kyle.” Steve replied, frowning. “I’m all for protecting good creepers, but I think knife threats and shooting fireballs at idiot teenagers is a  _liiittle_  alarming!” Gesturing to himself he added, “ _I’m_  an idiot teenager!”

Face scrunched up with a confused look, Toby frowned. “Wait… what? What do you mean?”

The Trollhunter’s expression fell more and more with the information and concerns Steve relayed to him. Angor Rot shooting spells at those idiots  _would_  explain the broken pieces of paintball gun Toby saw at the bridge. And he couldn’t deny it sounds like something Angor would do…

He sighed heavily.

“Jimbo’s  _not_  going to be happy to hear this…”

 

 

It’s been some days since they’ve begun their practices in the magical arts. Dictatious, as Angor expected, tires easily in this area. Wanting to be careful, they take breaks often for him to recuperate, usually ending up with him napping or watching those “CSI” show things while Angor sits nearby or in the other room, carving.

This occasion was  _mostly_  the same.

“Not making another one of those totems, are you?”

At the interruption of what was usually silence between them both, Angor paused, glancing into the living room.

Dictatious chuckled, eyes not looking away from the TV at first. “The children may not have noticed yet, but you don’t exactly  _hide_  it.” Now he looked at Angor, one eyebrow raised. “I can hear the knife against your stone almost every chance you get. Why make so many?”

 **“… One never knows when we might need them,”**  was all Angor replied with.

“… Hmm.” Tilting his head, Dictatious squinted, trying to make out what Angor had in his hands today, to no use. “ _That_  doesn’t sound like stone, though.”

 **“Perceptive.”**  Angor said as he went back to his work.  **“It’s just wood.”**

Dictatious again raised an eyebrow. “What use is  _that_  going to be?”

**“You’ll see.”**

“Ha… Very funny.”

Their banter was cut short when Jim walked into the house.

 **“Trollhunter.”**  Angor greeted, not looking up from his carving at first, but when he did, he saw a familiar look of upset on Jim’s face.  **“… What’s wrong?”**

Jim sighed. “Can I talk to you?” With a look at Dictatious, he added, “ _Outside?_ ”

Angor nodded and set aside his tools, following the Trollhunter out into the yard.

Jim had his back turned at first, talking a long, deep breath in and rubbing his temples. Things had been going so  _well_  lately and now he hears about  _this_ … but he tried to keep his cool.

He slowly turned around. “I have…  _no_  idea how you could think  _shooting fire_  at those kids was  _okay_.”

Angor frowned.  **“It never touched them. I was aiming for the weapon.”**

“It doesn’t  _matter_ , Angor. They didn’t  _know_  that.” Jim said firmly. “It wasn’t even an actual  _weapon_ -“

 **“And how was _I_  supposed to know  _that_?”**  Angor growled, already starting to get irritated himself.  **“I _told_  them to stay away from us, yet they persisted. How am I to interpret their actions as anything  _other_  than hostile?”**

“Angor, they’re just  _kids_.“

 **“So are _you_.” ** Angor countered.   ****

Jim bit his tongue in his vexation. “ _Look_.” He said. “You can’t just threaten and attack people’s  _kids_. Humans don’t see these things in the same way you do, you have to  _understand_  that-“

**_“I am TRYING, Trollhunter!”_ **

The sudden raise of his voice shut Jim up, if only from how it startled him at first.

There was a glow of frustration in Angor’s eye that Jim could see before the troll looked away, his fangs gritted with an annoyed, quiet growl.  **“ _Nothing_  makes  _sense_  here.”**

He  _was_  trying. Jim hasn’t been giving that credit where it’s due. The culture shock Angor’s been going through, he’d kept well hidden, but Jim was now kicking himself for not taking into account how serious it’s got to be.

This is all  _entirely_  different from what he’s used to, after all…

“… I know…” Jim finally said, sighing. “… I know you’re trying. I’m sorry.”

Angor’s eye turned to Jim again. He still looked annoyed, but as he wasn’t fully  _expecting_  an apology, so the surprise was enough to alleviate some of his anger.

“I’m just  _worried_ , Angor.” The Trollhunter went on to explain. “Lots of humans are having a hard time  _accepting_  trolls… I mean, there’s still loads of people in the world that can’t accept different  _skin colours_ , now there’s a whole other  _species_  into this mix.” Jim sighed. “If we start confirming people’s beliefs that trolls aren’t  _safe_ , it’ll just…”

The boy trailed off with a sigh.

Angor’s frown deepened. He  _did_  know of the human race’s…  _unaccepting_  tendencies. That aspect of their kind seems to still linger even today.

He… can understand the Trollhunter’s struggles on trying to maintain peace.

 **“… I see your concerns.”**  Angor said, breaking the tense silence.  **“That doesn’t mean I plan on resigning myself to your kind’s _scorn_.”**

“… That’s… fair…” Jim admitted. The negative treatment was something anybody would be upset about. “Please, just… try not to give anyone a  _reason_  to be  _scared_  of you?”

Angor snorted, unsure of how they’d manage that what with the way people just  _look_  at him. But…  **“Fine.”**

Jim gave him a thankful nod. He was about to be on his way again, but before he left, he added, “And Angor, you’ve… you’ve been doing great, everything considered. We’re  _all_  grateful to have you.”

That unexpected statement got an odd look from Angor. He looked as though he were going to say something, decided against it, and just gave a small nod of acknowledgement instead,

He watched the Trollhunter go, quiet all the while.

 

It’s not as though he went out of his way to interact with other humans anyways. The weeks that followed held nothing of concern… in  _that_  area, at least.

 

 

Bursts of magic flew across the backyard at a pace that would almost be alarming, if not for the two trolls keeping careful control of them.

Blindfolded, Dictatious mostly had to go off of sound to figure out how his target moved – Angor circled him at a relatively even pace, the pair passing a ball of energy back and forth, and Angor would occasionally switch directions or change pace to keep Dictatious guessing.

 **“Much better. There’s far more control to your shots now.”** Angor praised, having caught each throw of his with relative ease.  **“How are you feeling?”**

“Oh, none the worse for wear…” Dictatious replied, catching the sphere when Angor shot it back – wash, rinse, repeat. “You were right, as usual – it’s been feeling easier to manage over time.”

Angor nodded.  **“Good. So you’ve been noticing the improvement.”**

“ _This_  is what you call improvement?”

Both troll heads turned, Dictatious pulling up the blindfold, at the unimpressed voice that belonged to none other than Merlin, who’d taken to watching them from afar with a look of ridicule that carried through his tone of voice. “I’d hate to be the one stuck relying on  _that_  as back-up.”

Dictatious’s ears pulled back and his eyes narrowed slightly, having clearly taken offense, but just gritted his teeth and didn’t say anything. Angor spoke up in his defence, though.

 **“Just because he doesn’t meet _your_  standards doesn’t mean he’s not doing well… Everyone has to start somewhere.”** Angor countered, the sphere in his hand fizzling out.  **“What do you want?”**

“To speak to you. Privately.”

… Angor was becoming very unfond of those words. This time around, Dictatious also squinted in suspicion.

“I thought the Trollhunter didn’t  _trust_  the two of you alone…” He mentioned, casting foggy glances between the two.

“It’s a matter of utmost importance, regarding Morgana.” He looked pointedly at Angor Rot. “I thought you  _wanted_  to help with that problem of ours.”

At the mention of that name, Angor’s expression darkened. **“… Perhaps it _is_  time we take a break, Dictatious.” **He said, leading the smaller troll back inside.

Dictatious’s eyebrows raised in surprise that Angor was actually going to go with him. “… Okay then…” He said with another look the wizard’s way, “If you suddenly go missing, at least I’ll know who to blame.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at that comment, simply waiting for Angor Rot to come back outside on his own, which he did moments later.

**“What is it?”**

Merlin gestured to a path that led away from the house and to the woods. A more private speaking place, one could guess.

“Walk with me.”

 

… They’ve been gone an awfully long time.

Or maybe it just  _seemed_  long… time seemed to go by slower when he was alone, after all.

Still, Dictatious was starting to lose count of all the Law & Order episodes he kept blanking on.

Why should he even be concerned? Angor Rot can  _obviously_  take care of himself, there’s literally  _no_  reason to keep thinking about it.

… But… it seems the others’ distrust of Merlin had started to rub off on him. (Granted, it’s not as though Gumm-Gumms were fond of that wizard in the  _first_  place.)

What is he supposed to tell the children and his brother if he  _does_  do something to Angor? It was Dictatious’s job to  _watch_  him.

Just as he was starting to overthink this whole situation, the door opened. Dic immediately squinted at the figure, trying to make out who it was.

“Angor Rot?”

**“Yes.”**

Immediate sigh of relief. Dictatious tilted his head slightly, frowning. “So what was  _that_  about?”

He followed Angor’s movements with his eyes as the assassin moved to the dining room, sitting down in his usual spot to carve.  **“… It doesn’t concern you.”**  He eventually said, albeit through clenched teeth.

“Oh really? Then why do I feel  _concerned_?” Dictatious shot back, narrowing his many eyes.

 **“That is your problem.”**  Angor said, chipping into wood with his knife.  ** _“Do not ask.”_**

Dictatious was about to say something else, but didn’t get the chance when Toby basically kicked the door down and shouted, “IT’S TIME!” while holding a DVD case up high above his head.

Both trolls jumped at the sudden noise, and both looked at the child, confused.

**“Time… for what?”**

Jim and Claire followed behind him, chuckling.

“Don’t  _scare_  the poor guys, T.P.,” Claire said.

Closely following the children were Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, mostly just looking curious.

“I still don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Blinky commented, Aaarrrgghh shrugging with agreed sentiment.

“Oh, you will!” Toby then turned his excitement onto Angor and Dictatious. “Are you ready for magic and wonder in your lives?”

“… Is that a sarcastic question?” Dictatious blankly asked.

“Nope!” Toby looked to the TV, then started to say, “Oh, unless you’re in the middle of-“

“I wasn’t paying attention anyways.” Dictatious assured him with a go-ahead gesture. He stared Angor’s way again, still somewhat apprehensive about the earlier topic… but figured he may as well welcome this change of subject. “Besides, now you’ve piqued my curiosity, child.”

“ _Trust_  me…” Toby said, grinning mischievously when he went to pop the DVD in, “… you guys have  _got_  to like the Harry Potter movies.”

Oh,  _this_  subject again?

Claire and Jim followed, though Jim paused when he noticed Angor getting up like he was about to leave. “Not sticking around?”

Angor Rot snorted.  **“The time would be better spent elsehow.”**

“You’ll be missing out, dude!” Toby called from the living room. Jim just stared at the assassin for a moment, then shrugged.

“Well, you don’t have to stay…” The Trollhunter drawled, “… but, you know,  _you_  need to relax sometimes, too.”

… Did this child just use his own words against him?

Jim smirked a little at the look on Angor’s face, pulled a chair from the dining room to the corner of the living room (a fair distance away from everyone else – he knew Angor liked his space), patted the seat as an invitation to stay, and then joined Claire sitting in front of the couch without another word to him.

He  _did_  do just exactly that. The  _nerve_.

When Jim saw out of the corner of his eye Angor Rot silently taking a seat in that chair, quietly picking away at his wooden carving, he couldn’t help but smirk a little wider.

Whatever. Angor Rot was honestly also a little curious about this whole “Harry Potter” fuss anyways…

 

Toby wasn’t expecting to get through  _three_  of those movies tonight, but by the time Prisoner of Azkaban was wrapping up, most of the trolls actually seemed pretty invested in this ragtag group of awkward British teens.

Angor and Blinky, though, had taken to ripping apart the story’s inconsistencies thus far. The third movie got them rolling on the topics of the Maurader’s Map first.

 **“I don’t understand… if the Weasley one’s own kin had been using the Maurader’s Map, then why were they not concerned of the name of a complete stranger always lurking around their young brother for so long?”** Angor had asked.

“Not to mention the lack of concern when Ginny was parading around where she shouldn’t have been in the  _last_  movie!” Blinky added. “And how long had Sirius been on the school grounds? Why did Remus not confront him  _sooner_?”

“Drama.” Toby said with an amused grin, quite enjoying their engagement with the films.

 **“Speaking of Sirius… Why does he not just use Polyjuice potion now?”** Angor went on.  **“If three whelps can concoct a batch so easily, what excuse does _he_  have not to keep a consistent supply? It would help him in hiding.”**

“Rowling had to save that idea for a future character, I guess!” Jim laughed, to which Claire gasped and play-jabbed him, shouting ‘No spoilers’!

“What about the Time Turner? Why did that girl only wait until  _now_  to use it? Could she not just use it any time something goes wrong? Such a tool would solve  _many_  of their problems.” Dictatious added into the conversation.

“Well, it might be dangerous, if she were to be discovered by another wizard-“

“She takes several classes at the same time in the same building and no one notices  _once_!” Blinky jumped in again. “Who keeps  _track_ of all these children here?! You’d think they’d better improve their supervision skills with all these hijinks going on!”

Toby, Jim, and Claire were all getting a good laugh out of this. “Oh man, you guys are  _not_  going to enjoy all the plot holes still to come.”  Toby chuckled.

“There’s  _more_?” Dictatious gasped, shocked.

“Welcome to the world of book-to-movie adaptations, my friends!” Claire giggled, Jim and Toby joining in.

Angor stayed quiet as the rest of them continued their banter.

They seem so… calm. Happy.

Almost… familial.

… It didn’t sit right with Angor.

He’s been here over a month now, and he’s  _still_  not used to this.

 

~

 

**“Repeat after me.”**

Two empty bottles sat across the yard from Dictatious and Angor, placed just a few centimeters away from one of Nana’s trees. Angor held out his hand, focused on one of the bottles, and incanted.

**_“Saa chu’lak.”_ **

When he said those words, a purple light began to glow beneath one of the cans, the object floating up in the air, then getting pressed against the tree, surrounded by purple smoke.

Obviously, Dictatious could barely make out what was happening, but he got the gist of the idea… Mimicking Angor, he too raised one hand in the direction of where the cans sat.

“Saa… chu’lak…”

A small rattle, one telling enough that Dictatious knew there was motion, sounded from across the yard. But, that small rattle was all to happen – no light, no significant movement to speak of, happened from the spell.

Angor watched quietly as the troll tried again, only to produce the same results, As usual, multiple failed attempts would lead this troll to get discouraged, Dictatious sighing in annoyance.

 **“Spellcasting with the spoken word is a more intricate form of magic.”**  He said in an attempt to reassure.  **“It would be unrealistic to expect you to have it perfected on the first day.”**

Dictatious’s ear twitched back, a look on his face that Angor couldn’t quite place as he squinted at the empty cans…

 **“You don’t necessarily have to have a good visual on your target for this.”**  Angor went on.  **“You know your mark’s position, and how you want to change it. Focus on that.”**

Dictatious took a deep breath to calm himself. He tried again, this time getting the can an inch or so off the ground before it plopped back down again.

**“Better-“**

“Saa chu’lak.”

Again, no more than a couple inches off the ground before it fell. Dictatious growled quietly.

Angor frowned.  **“We’ve… been at it for some time… Perhaps we should take a break now-“**

“I can  _do_  it.” Dictatious insisted.  _Again_ , he pushed the spell. A similar purple light to the one Angor produced sparked beneath the empty can for a second, popping noises bouncing off the metal when the energy hit it, but it still all stopped within seconds, Dictatious growing more and more visibly frustrated.

Angor took a step closer to him.  **“Dictatious, _stop_.”**

“ _Saa chu’lak_.”

Light beamed out from beneath the now-sporadically-moving can, the spell obviously having been  unstably cast. Dictatious was visibly shaking, his words starting to have slurred when he incanted, yet he  _still_  held up a hand at the can to try again.

 ** _“Stop it!”_**  As Angor snapped that demand, he grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back so Dictatious was forced to face him. The second Angor had touched him, Dictatious flinched, a hint of fear in his cloudy eyes when they met Angor’s.

Upon seeing this, Angor let him go, but the assassin was still  _clearly_ annoyed.  **“I have _told_  you not to  _force_  acts like this.”** He growled, unimpressed.

Dictatious must’ve realized his scared look when Angor let him go so fast, because he immediately covered it up with a grimace and looked away. “Oh  _please_ , it was going  _fine_ …”

Unfortunately for him, there was a tired weight to his voice that made him sound  _very_  unconvincing.

Angor Rot growled again at the obvious lie.  **“Because you do not seem to be in a mood to _listen_ , I think we’re  _done_  for today.”**

Dictatious sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “… Fine, fine…” He muttered. It’s just as well… his head had started to throb with that last magic attempt.  
He knew Angor was right, and Angor could  _see_  that Dic knew he was right. Whatever all  _that_  was about, he would just have to hope Dictatious would be more  _mindful_  in future lessons…

 **“Well… come along, then.”**  Angor said, toning back the bite in his voice and offering his arm.  **“You should rest.”**

Dictatious sighed, reluctantly accepting the help back inside.

 

Claire and NotEnrique were sitting together on the couch, watching the news for any sign of portal activity anywhere else they haven’t checked, but so far, all seems under control.

NotEnrique’s little ears perked right up when he heard the door open, and he shot the two trolls that walked in a cheeky grin. “’Ey! How’d it go today?” He chirped. “Learn any new tricks?”

 **“… Somewhat,”** was all Angor said, as Dictatious did not bother to answer.

Claire turned down the volume on the TV, also glancing at the pair. “Oh, you were doing spellcasting today, right? That’s so neat.” She said. “I only know that one spell from Morgana.”

“Oh yes, that one for your staff…” Dictatious said, then gave her a puzzled look, “Does it even  _work_  on other things?”

“… Huh. You know what, I’m not actually sure.”

Claire then looked at the bookshelf across the room, took aim with her hand, and…

“Azazazuth kinekh thoon!”

The book she was aiming for  _did_  get yanked out of the shelf… but it fell to the floor, not finishing its trip to Claire at all.

“… Huh. Guess I just had more of a connection to the staff.” She shrugged.

“Hmm… You know when a spell like  _that_  would have been useful?” Dictatious said, copping a sarcastic smile at Angor. “ _Looking for someone’s eye_.”

Claire muffled the chuckle she got out of that, whereas NotEnrique just straight-up guffawed. Angor rolled his eye. At least Dictatious was in a decent enough mood to joke, even if it’s at his expense.

“Well, what spell  _were_  you guys doing?”

They were both quiet for a moment, and Angor took a look at NotEnrique, the faintest smirk on his face as he said to Claire.  **“Allow me to demonstrate?”**

“… I don’t like that look in yer eye, Spooktacular.” NotEnrique said.

 **“Oh, it’s harmless enough.”**  He assured the Changeling.

NotEnrique squinted. “… Yer lucky I’ma curious bastard, but I’ll have my sis beat you up if you do anything funky!”

“I didn’t agree to that.” Claire said jokingly.

Still, they felt comfortable enough with Angor by now to allow it. Angor Rot raised his hand in the Changeling’s direction. Dictatious “watched” as carefully as he could when Angor performed the spell.

**_“Saa chu’lak.”_ **

That purple light appeared beneath NotEnrique, Claire shifting away from him in her seat, watching carefully, and the Changeling squeaked as he suddenly rose up in the air, and was pressed against the wall, dark violet smoke swirling around him, acting as restraints.

“Uh… woah.” Claire said, blinking a few times.

“Yeah, ‘woah’…” NotEnrique grunted, completely unable to move, “I, uh, I think I get the idea, big guy…”

Angor Rot let him back down right away. He shook himself out a bit, but was physically fine.  **“A simple constraint, nothing more.”**

“That seems like a useful spell…” Claire pondered, a thought coming to her.  “Couldn’t we use it on Morgana until we figure out how to kill Her?” She asked.

**“The time it lasts is limited. I doubt it would restrain someone of Her power for more than a few seconds.”**

“Ah, fudgeknuckles.” Claire huffed. “Oh well, guess we’ll just have to think up some other ideas.”

Angor stayed quiet this time. While they are a resourceful group, he found it hard to imagine them finding a weakness of Hers…

Hmm. He  _did_  decide to side with them, so maybe it’s not in his best interest to be so quick to think of this as a suicide mission.

Well… for now, he wouldn’t think about that…

 

~

 

“Angor Rot?”

Angor looked up from his work to see a tentative Dictatious in the stairway. It had only been an hour or two since they came in, he shouldn’t still be up…  **“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”**

Averting his eyes, Dictatious muttered somewhat sheepishly, “I’ve… been trying.”

Angor blinked.  **“Something troubles you?”**

Dictatious hid a wince. “… I think I just… need to clear my head.” He sighed, clearly really not wanting to have to ask what he was about to ask. “… Would you mind taking me into town?”

A bit surprised by the request, Angor was quiet for a moment. Apparently that was almost long enough for Dictatious to start backpedalling in his mind, starting to say something along the lines of ‘never mind’ or ‘forget I said anything’, but Angor spoke up in favour of the idea.

 **“Your timing is actually somewhat decent,”**  Angor said, cleaning off whatever he’d been carving, and standing from his seat. Upon approaching Dictatious, he held the item out to the smaller troll, lightly tapping one of his hands with it as an indication for him to take it.  **“Let’s see if this helps you get by.”**

Confused, Dictatious took the object… and quickly realized it was a walking stick. One fashioned to suit his size and sat comfortably in his hands. Dictatious just stared blankly at the blur through his foggy eyes, feeling it carefully with his hands. “ _This_  is what you’ve been making…?”

 **“It surprises me that no one’s thought to give you one sooner.”** Angor said.  **“Now you hopefully won’t have as hard a time staying upright.”**

Dictatious looked at Angor with a touch of confusion, but mostly gratitude in his eyes. “… Thank you for this…”

Angor simply hummed in acknowledgement, then offered his arm.  **“Shall we go?”**

 

Throughout their walk, Angor kept watch of Dictatious out of the corner of his eye as they strolled through Arcadia. The walking stick did seem to help somewhat, as Angor hasn’t had to point out any curbs yet, nor has Dictatious stumbled on anything else thus far. Angor thought it good to know his work wouldn’t go to waste.

… For someone who was usually fairly loud-mouthed, Dictatious had been staying oddly quiet during their walk. Angor thought it might just have been due to tiredness, but… that just didn’t seem like the only thing.

 **“So, what has been upsetting you?”**  He eventually asked.

Dictatious cast him a side glance, then aimed his eyes forwards again. “Nothing, just… just tired today, I suppose.”

**“Tired, yet you cannot sleep.”**

Dictatious gritted his teeth. He said nothing.

Angor raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off, as it certainly wasn’t  _his_ problem.  **“I won’t bother you about it. But there’s no point in telling such a transparent lie.”**

Still, Dictatious kept his silence. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want it discussed.

Very well. Angor Rot has no qualms against some peace and quiet.

Though, peace and quiet in this town never seemed to last for long – in particular, Angor kept an eye out for those two human whelps that had kept bothering them. For now, he saw no sign of them.

… He  _did_  see two familiar faces outside of a nearby café, and paused.

“What is it?” Dictatious asked.

 **“Barbara and Strickler…’**  Angor said, staring in confusion at them from across the street.  **“They are away from the Familiars again.”**

“Oh. They’ve probably gotten someone to babysit while they’re out.”

Angor could see Strickler had noticed them staring and gave them an awkward look. Barbara had followed the Changeling’s gaze, and gave the trolls a hesitant but polite wave out of courtesy.

 **“… Hm,”**  Disregarding them, Angor Rot continued taking Dictatious on their way.  **“I don’t understand why they do that.”**

“What, go on dates?” Dictatious asked. “It’s just a way humans like to spend one-on-one time together, to unwind.”

Angor was quiet again for a second, contemplating that thought, then he asked,  **“Does that mean _we_  are ‘on a date’?”**

“Wh-?” Dictatious couldn’t help but to laugh. “No no no, that term’s used for  _mates_.”

**“Ahh. My mistake.”**

“Heh… I didn’t explain very well, I don’t think.”

Regardless, some of today’s earlier tension seems to be starting to melt away. At least that’s a good thing.

 **“Was there anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”**  Angor asked him.

“No, nowhere in particular…” Dic replied. “… just wanted to get out for a bit.”

Angor simply nodded and they continued to just wander, until Dic made a sudden sound as he remembered something.

“Oh, although…” Out of his sash, Dictatious pulled out a shopping list and a 20-dollar-bill, handing both items to Angor Rot. “Nancy  _did_  ask if we could get a few things while we were out.”

Angor stared blankly at the list. He flipped it over, turned it around, tilted it every which way, but no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t make sense of the outlandish scribbles left there.  **“Erhm…”** Utterly baffled, Angor stared down at his shorter company.  **“Dictatious… Is there not _one_  small detail you’re forgetting?”**

“What could I  _possibly_  be forgetting about a simple grocery trip?” Dictatious said, in fact rather patronizingly. “She sends her whelp to do this all the time, it’s a  _simple_  task-“

**“ _You_  cannot read this…”**

At that Dictatious scoffed, insulted that he’d yet again point out such an obvious fact. “No,  _really_?  _You don’t say_ -“

**“… and _I_  cannot read this…”**

Realization of his ancient company’s inability to comprehend modern English slapped Dictatious right in the face. “… Oh.” He sheepishly said, ears lowering in his mild embarrassment. “Oh, that’s correct, isn’t it…”

Angor closed his eye, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed deeply.  **“You call yourself a _scholar_ …”**

“Ahem… well, no matter…” Dictatious tried to brush his mistake off, “Surely we can just… get it translated by one of the locals, perhaps?”

Angor rolled his eye, but he wasn’t particularly bothered.  **“Very well.”**

 

 

Their luck wasn’t exactly prosperous in finding hospitable enough locals, though. Dictatious suggested going back and perhaps asking Barbara and Strickler, since they too were in town, but Angor Rot absolutely refused to ask any favours of (or near)  _that_  Changeling. Still, they were lucky enough to even find someone willing to point them in the direction of the store, what with most of the humans keeping their distance from them.

When they got there, now they had to solve the problem of finding someone willing to actually translate the list for them.

Immediately, their luck worsened.

When they walked in, they already were getting a few nervous or hostile looks, but neither troll cared, as Dictatious couldn’t even see it and Angor Rot, being Angor Rot, literally could not care any less on any judging look a fleshbag might give him.

 **“They barter these worthless little strips of paper for goods?”** Angor asked Dictatious as they wandered, giving the 20 dollars in his hand a strange look.

“Yes. Sometimes little coins too.” Dictatious said with a shrug. “Funny, isn’t it?”

Certainly didn’t  _seem_  like equal value. But Angor’s given up on trying to understand human ways at this point.

Unsurprisingly, most humans in here kept their distance from them too.  Trying to speak to one usually only resulted in bothered looks. It didn’t look like this was going to be a simple, short task.

Thinking this might be a better errand for the human whelps to do, Angor Rot was starting to consider just leaving.

 **“Dictatious,”**  He said to his companion, about to voice his thoughts,  **“Perhaps we should-“**

_“Hey!”_

They both turned at the cue of a… not-so-happy-sounding fleshbag. A pink-haired human, likely not much older than the Trollhunters, was walking over to them with a scowl on her face. She wore all-black attire that Angor had seen a few of the others wearing, the same logo on her shirt that was on the front of the grocery store.

 **“… Yes?”**  Angor said, partially confused as to what she could be upset about, but mostly confused that a human here was actually approaching  _them_  now.

“If you’re just going to cause trouble here, then you need to leave!”

Dictatious and Angor gave each other confused looks, clearly having no idea what she was talking about. That made the scowl on her face even angrier. She took a step closer and put her hands on her hips, glaring up at the taller of the two, and when she spoke again, it was in a patronizing, slow tone, as if she thought they couldn’t speak English. “ _You_  two… should…  _gooo_ …” She drawled, making ridiculous hand gestures to try and match her words the whole time.

 **“We… heard you the first time.”**  Angor Rot said, her actions only prompting him to give her an even more confused look. He made a gesture to their list.  **“We would like to be on our way, too. We just came to-“**

“We don’t serve  _trolls_.” She snapped, shutting him down.

 _That_  comment started to make things click in Angor’s head. The confusion on his face was replaced with annoyed realization. Dictatious’s eyes narrowed at her words as well, but for now, he stayed quiet. At this point, more people were starting to stare at the commotion.

 **“We have not caused any trouble, as you seem to think.”**  Angor tried to explain, keeping his calm.

The human gave him the biggest most obnoxious eye roll Angor’s ever seen, and as someone who spends time with Dictatious, that’s saying something. “You’re  _bothering customers_.”

Now Dictatious laughed, speaking up. “With just our  _presence_?” He said. “I didn’t realize your kind were  _that_  high-strung.”

The girl glared at him now. “Nobody asked you!” She snapped. “You’re lucky my coworkers and I don’t throw you out into the sun with  _that_  attitude!”

Eye narrowing, Angor Rot moved in front of Dictatious, blocking him off from the girl. Those kinds of threats, he wasn’t sure anymore whether they would follow through or not, but he didn’t want to take chances.

_‘Please just… try not to give anyone a **reason**  to be scared of you.’_

His conversation with Jim lingered in the back of his thoughts, and Angor sighed in annoyance. He was not the type to let someone like this human off so easily. But…

Deciding it wasn’t worth it, Angor started to lead Dictatious to the exit, the girl continuing on to an approaching coworker with little scalding insults she said purposefully loud enough for them to hear.

Angor ignored it. He’s been treated far worse, and couldn’t bring himself to care enough to start anything. But Dictatious, being the living salt mine he was, had enough of letting this slide – not without at least  _one_  shot back, and he was  _never_  too tired to come up with some sarcasm ammo. He spoke up again, also making  sure his next comment was loud enough for  _her_  to hear. “We should add something  _else_  to that list, Angor.” With a glare back in her direction, he said, “We should get that  _lovely_  human a plant for her to carry around and replace all the _oxygen she wastes_.”

**“ _Dictatious_ -“**

“What did you say?!”

Angor Rot sighed again, internally cursing everyone’s existence as he heard those uppity footsteps coming back towards them. He very much wanted to stab something, but couldn’t decide between Dictatious, the fleshbag, or himself.

“Ahh, so she can dish it out but can’t  _take_  it.” Dictatious said before she could shoot back, a vitriolic grin being sent in the direction of her noise.

“You’d better apologize, you  _fucking gremlin_ -“

 **“ _You_  were the one to start with the insults.”** Angor growled, again stepping between Dictatious and the girl when she tried to get closer to him.  **“He doesn’t have to apologize to _you_.”**

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Her face got progressively redder and she was planning on giving them another piece of her mind, but Dic spoke up again.

“No no, she’s right. That was unfair of me to say…” His cutting grin grew wider as he aimed his eyes directly at her and continued, “… because she  _clearly_  isn’t getting her fair share of oxygen in the first place, since none of it seems to be reaching her  _brain_.”

She continued to blow up at them, yelling all sorts of offences at them and Angor giving Dictatious a look that  _screamed_  ‘You are  _not helping’_. (The smaller troll had no regrets.) Even the other customers around them were starting to look uncomfortable by the scene she was making.

Despite how Angor wanted to leave, this annoying fleshbag had placed herself in the way of the exit they were headed for. He tried to tune her out and head for the other exit across the store, but she grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him. Not a smart move.

Angor Rot spun back around, jerking his arm away with enough force to make her stumble, and snarled with  _intense_  animosity,  ** _“Do NOT touch me.”_**

The rage in his eye was enough to put a look of fear on her face for a second, and she even backed away, but  _still_  she didn’t back  _down_ , going on about how ‘monstrosities like them had no right talking to humans like that’, how ‘they were on THEIR land now’ and they ‘ought to be  _shot_  like the animals they are if they try anything to retaliate’… Angor was at the end of his patience.

 _Just_  as he was about to say or do something he might regret, somebody else stepped in.

“Hey hey, woah!” A short, chubby-looking human with messy brown hair managed to worm his way between the employee and the trolls, almost tripping over his long, red housecoat as he did so. Angor and Dictatious at first expected him to take his kind’s side, until he spoke up on  _their_  behalf. “What is the  _problem_  here? Leave the fellas alone, they’re not hurting anybody!” He said to the pink-haired girl. “You don’t have to yell at ‘em like that…”

The trolls exchanged a confused and surprised look between each other. The girl put her hands on her hips again.

“They have been  _incredibly_  rude and scared our customers!” She persisted. “They need to learn their place-“

“Miss, uh, with all due respect,” the man interrupted, an awkward and hesitant smile on his face, “ _You’re_  the one who’s yelling some  _unprofessional_  things… I know your manager, I’m pretty sure he likes his staff to be a lil’ more  _civil_ , you know…?”

She was about to say something else, but wouldn’t you know it, somebody must have gone and called said manager about the situation, because he came over, too. “Is there a problem over here?”

The one in the housecoat beat his employee to the punch, immediately speaking up, “Oh, we don’t want to get anybody in trouble – my  _friends_  and I were just trying to get some shopping done when…” He looked to the employee, who didn’t dare start her bitching again with a superior worker present.

“Oh, Stuart.” The manager said upon recognizing the speaking customer. Aside from giving the two trolls a strange look, he didn’t much address them. Instead, he gave the girl an unimpressed look. “You were supposed to relieve Gwen on the till ten minutes ago. Get on it.”

She sputtered something, probably another derogatory comment about trolls, under her breath, but caused no more trouble as she walked away, giving Angor Rot a look that was returned with a fierce glare of his own.

Now looking more directly at Angor Rot and Dictatious, the manager asked Stuart, “You’re, uh… sure you’re alright with these guys?”

“Oh, don’t you worry! They’re with me!” Stuart said in a very chipper and reassuring voice.

Unsure, but satisfied enough, the other man simply nodded and walked away. Stuart sighed, relieved, and finally got a chance to address the trolls directly.

“Sorry about that, gentlemen…” The human said awkwardly to them, “People don’t usually see trolls in here…”

“We can  _tell_.” Dictatious said bitterly. Angor still stayed quiet, just eying Stuart with a look of mistrust.

“Well, I’m Stuart, but you guys can call me Stu if you want!” He held out his hand for a handshake as he introduced himself, but when all Angor did was stare suspiciously at it, he pulled his arm back. “Ah, don’t worry… I come in peace, and all that jazz.” The awkward man chuckled. “What, er, what brings you two in today?”

 **“We’ve been _trying_  to pick up some… supplies…”** Angor rumbled, still annoyed,  **“… but clearly it’s a _waste of time_.”**

“Maybe I can help? What are you looking for?”

Again, a look of mild surprise crossed both Dic and Angor’s face. The taller troll showed Stuart the list, him looking it over curiously.

“Oh yeah, you can find all that in here easy peasy!” Stuart chirped. He gestured for them to follow. “Here, I’ll show you what you’re looking for!”

Angor still hesitated, but Dictatious just shrugged and nudged him. “Well, it’s the first human we’ve had that’s willing to assist.”

 **“… So it seems…”**  Angor agreed. He was certainly easier to deal with so far than the  _other_  humans they’ve seen today.

With Stuart’s help, they actually managed to find all the items on their list. While Stuart’s merry chatter was tiring to keep up with at times, both trolls much preferred it to the degradation of that girl from before.

… Speaking of.

They approached the checkout line with a cart half-full of groceries, and who else was at the register but miss pink-hair herself?

She didn’t say a single word the whole time she checked those three out. Stuart may have felt a little uncomfortable in the silence, but felt it better not to say anything. Angor only cast her the occasional dark look.

Dictatious, at first, wasn’t sure if the human serving them was the same one from before. But judging from the familiar blur of pink he could barely make out, and how tensely quiet everyone was being, he could make an educated guess.

As Stuart made the proper payment and they all headed for the exit, Dictatious said nothing but did flash her the most nasty, mocking smile he could make. His hunch of who the cashier was had been confirmed when he heard her mutter ‘bastard’ under her breath, and he chuckled quietly as they left the building.

 

“Anything else you fellas need?” Stuart asked them.

 **“No.”**  Angor offered the 20 dollars to Stu.  **“Does this suffice as payment?”**

“Oh! Don’t you worry about that!”  Stuart assured him, lightly pushing his hand back. “The groceries are on the house!”

Dictatious immediately looked confused. “We don’t need them  _on_  the house! We need them  _in_  the house!”

After blinking a few times, Stuart burst out in the most boisterous of laughter. Neither Angor nor Dictatious could figure out what was so funny, and Stu apologized as soon as he saw their confused faces.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ He chuckled, wiping away a tear. “You just- Ahh, that reminded me of a good friend of mine… What I mean to say is, don’t worry about it! You don’t owe me anything.”

That made the pair look even  _more_  confused.  **“… Are you _sure_?”**

“Yeah, of course!”

 **“Hm, well… thank you for your… help.”**  Angor said slowly, still not sure what to make of this strange human.

Dictatious squinted at their company with similar thoughts. “Why  _did_ you help us, anyways?”

Stuart took a good look at them. He knew the second he saw them in there that it wasn’t the first time they’ve been treated like that, and didn’t expect it to be the last. “Well… Why not?” He replied, shrugging. “Seemed like you two could use a little kindness, eh?”

Stuart gathered up his portion of the groceries, and started to go about on his way, but he looked back and said with a smile, “Besides, I know what it feels like to be…” He paused, chuckling. “…  _alienated_.”

**“… What?”**

Stuart just winked, waved goodbye, and left, leaving behind two very confused trolls.

“… What a strange fleshbag.” Dictatious commented.

Angor Rot snorted.  **“So long as we don’t have to deal with any _more_.** ” Turning away to head them home, he added,  **“Now let’s get these to that strange fleshbag at the house.”**

“ _Hey_ ,” Dictatious snapped him a look. “If you’re talking about Nancy-“

**“She sent two trolls who cannot _read_  this list to a human store. Not a very well-thought out idea.”**

“It’s not  _her_  fault. She didn’t  _know_.”

Now Angor was giving Dictatious a confused look, not expecting him to be so defensive of  _that_  random human.  **“… Well… I suppose it matters not. We got what we were looking for.”**

“That we did,” Dictatious sighed, rolling his eyes and adding quietly, “It would’ve gone by much faster if one of us could just  _read_ properly…”

**“I haven’t exactly had much _time_  for learning new human writing.”**

“I know, I know.” Dic huffed. “I’d have been happy to teach you, but  _obviously_ …”  He shook his head and sighed under his breath and ears drooping down a bit, “I can’t even read my  _own_  books anymore…”

Angor frowned slightly staring at Dictatious. The art of the written word was something he obviously missed, understandably so. He can see how the thought of never getting that back would be somewhat… depressing.

 **“… Have you considered having someone read them to you?”** Angor suggested.

Dictatious blinked a few times, then snickered a little, giving the assassin an incredulous look. “Being read to like a whelp?” He repeated. “I don’t even think I could even bring myself to ask that of somebody without dying inside.”

**“You don’t have to ask. I’m offering.”**

“Wh- … Oh.” Dictatious stared at him for a good few seconds, confused. “I mean…  _really_?”

Angor shrugged slightly.  **“We’ve done enough training for today, you’re clearly tired, so why not?”** Raising a brow he added, **“If you’d like me to, of course.”**

“… I… Uhm…” Dictatious just kept staring blankly for a small while. “… Alright…”

 

So, upon dropping the groceries off at Nana’s house and picking up a Horngazel and umbrella, the two then made their way to Trollmarket, and to Dictatious’s library, perusing the shelves. Angor Rot was just appreciative to have some writing in a language he could  _read_.

Dictatious, upon Angor asking him what kind of books he wanted read, just told him to ‘pick out whatever catches your interest’. From the sounds and looks of him, he still seemed a little embarrassed about this whole idea… but still, he hadn’t been objecting.

Angor gathered a decently sized pile of books, some on history he’s missed in his slumber, others on ancient magics and legends… and then some.

 **“If you would rather just retire for the evening…”**  Angor started to say, but Dictatious shook his head.

“No, no, this… err…” Dictatious cleared his throat. “… actually sounds like a… a decent thought.”

Angor simply shrugged, and took a seat next to Dictatious, setting down his selection of books. The first one he picked up, an ancient work, recordings of some of the first Trollhunters to be, theories of how a Trollhunter is chosen, things of that sort.

Angor’s voice was a strange, gravelly one, but it wasn’t irritating to listen to, especially when the assassin was calm. Awkward as the act of being read to  _felt_  to Dictatious, there was still a somewhat relaxing undertone to it.

When it came to books he had written himself (which most of these were) Dictatious and Angor would occasionally engage in small talk about some of the topics and details that came up – efforts gone to in order to get the information being read, an insider Gumm-Gumm perspective to many of the battles in question, even correcting some of the older works with new knowledge he’s amassed over the years…  

All in all, it’s been turning into a peaceful evening.

Dictatious had gone quiet for some time, so Angor had just kept on reading aloud in that neutral rumble of a voice he had.

He stopped his reading abruptly, however, going tense when he felt Dictatious’s head slowly fall against his shoulder.

**“… Dictatious?”**

He got no response. Just a soft snore.

 **“Oh…”** Angor settled back down when he realized Dictatious had only accidentally fallen asleep against him. Angor half-debated moving… he wasn’t fond of being touched (being used for guidance or used as a  _pillow_  are two  _very_  different situations)…

… Well… it’s not a big deal. Figured he should just leave Dictatious be now that he’s actually getting some  _sleep_  today. He went back to reading, this time just to himself. Though, not surprising to him, it wasn’t long until he was interrupted.

It was Claire’s voice, Angor recognized, that came from the head popping into the library to look around.

“Hey, have you guys seen Bli-“ Claire’s face went blank as soon as she saw the two of them. “…nky…”

Angor hadn’t looked up once from the book he read, Dictatious still deep asleep leaning against him.  **“He has not been down here, no.”** He simply said as he flipped a page.  **“I assume he’d be at the Heartstone if he’s in Trollmarket.”**

When Claire didn’t reply or move at all, Angor eventually looked up at her, confused.  **“… Trollhunter? Is there anything else?”**

She still didn’t say a word. Just pulled out her phone, which made a click and a flash at him and Dictatious, and then she left the library.

 **“… Apparently not…”**  Angor mumbled to himself, confused still, but just went back to the book he’d been skimming through.

At least this time, he had an hour or so to himself before the next time the silence broke again. This time it was just Dictatious now, though - The smaller troll, though honestly still half-asleep, had finally begun to stir again.

There was a little shifting on his end as he woke, still a little out of it.

_… Great. How long did I doze off for._

**“So. He lives.”**

_……… That voice sounded a lot closer than it was before-_

_Oh **no**._

The second he realized what he’d done, the shock sent Dictatious jolting away from the other troll. Angor raised an eyebrow at him.

“Gods, why would you let me  _do_  that?!” He squeaked, a mix of embarrassment and alarm in his voice and eyes. “I  _swear_  I didn’t mean to-!”

 **“If it was bothering me,”**  Angor said calmly, turning a page,  **“then I’d have moved.”**

That comment at least got Dictatious to stop fussing ( _externally_ , anyways) but the Conundrum was definitely still going to keep a few feet’s distance from Angor and avoid all eye contact.

Things stewed in an awkward silence for a bit.

 **“You’ve done much research on me.”**  Angor suddenly said.  **“I’m surprised you even managed to obtain some of this information.”**

Dictatious’s ears twitched. His head turned just slightly in Angor’s direction. “… Well, I…  _do_  pride myself on being thorough.”

**“So I can tell.”**

… Unless he was mistaken, Dictatious almost thought there was something in his voice that sounded… like just the  _smallest_  trace of remorse.

He must be looking through the book about his bargain with the Pale Lady, and atrocities committed by him afterwards…

“… Ah, though it’s… not as thorough as it  _could’ve_  been.” Dictatious pointed out. Angor looked at him, puzzled, as he went on. “I didn’t really have all of the facts… Nobody had known  _why_  you’d bartered with the Pale Lady, for one…” When Angor stayed quiet, Dictatious just shrugged and added, “Just another one of those books that could do with some correcting…”

Angor Rot snorted, looking back to the pages.  **“They’re accurate enough.”**

Dictatious frowned slightly. He was quiet for a moment before speaking up again.

“That’s not the only work I’ve written on you, you know.”

Curious, Angor glanced his way once more.  **“I can’t imagine you’d have had much else to cover.”**

Dictatious, not sure if he was joking or not (but would always assume not at this point), gave him a funny look in return. He stood up, and walked over to a wall of bookshelves, feeling around the texts that sat there.

“You were still well-known even before your bargain with  _Her_ , obviously.” Dictatious pointed out, in case Angor had… forgotten, somehow. He fumbled a bit in search of the book he had in mind  _(this would be so much easier with functional eyes…)_  but he eventually found what he was looking for, and moved back towards the assassin. “You  _do_  remember all your services to your people, don’t you?”

_‘I heard you were once a great warrior, a **hero**  to Trollkind.’_

… Of course Angor remembered. But that was a version of him long abandoned.

 **“That was many years ago.”**  Angor eventually spoke.  **“It’s… irrelevant now.”**

“I can’t tell if that’s false modesty or just a  _ridiculously_  strange sense of humour.” Dictatious said. Not having any of his blatant disregard for such straightforward information, Dictatious basically shoved the book on top of the one Angor already had opened. “Just  _look_. I believe these kinds of actions are what some would call ‘honourable’.”

Angor gave a begrudging sigh, but opened the book. Detailed records lay before him of old accomplishments and heroics, some memories he’d long buried, others all too familiar.

 **“These are remnants of someone who was killed long ago.”** Angor growled, flicking the book at Dictatious’s feet.  **“It doesn’t matter anymore. The evils I’ve done have long replaced that.”**

Dictatious scoffed. He picked up the book, glowering. “So. You think none of your previous deeds mean  _anything_  anymore.”

**“I am known for bringing pain and death. My crimes against Trollkind far outweigh-“**

“Okay,  _stop_.”

Dictatious had heard enough of this nonsense. He was by  _no_  means a ‘good’ troll. He wasn’t in the business of ‘honour’, ‘saving lives’,  _anything_  of that sort.

But he  _was_  in the business of plain old facts.

And there are many significant facts Angor’s taken to ignoring, here. How he could be so ignorant, why he’d  _want_  to wallow in such self-loathing, the Conundrum couldn’t figure out.

Not acceptable. These books were written for a  _reason_ , their information isn’t going to be  _ignored_.

“The earliest pages of  _any_  book are fundamental in writing its ending.” Dictatious said, going to put his works back on their shelves, but intentionally leaving the ones regarding Angor by his side. With a thoughtful glance to the assassin, he went on. “And your  _positive_ actions have affected more people’s stories than you may realize.”

Silent and still, Angor listened with furrowed brows. His lone eye wandered from the other troll to the book left at his side.

“You have saved the lives of many, helped evacuate villages that were not even your own… Many trolls would have perished without you. Many of those you’ve saved, even descendants of such, are still alive today because of  _you_. I’m sure  _they_  haven’t forgotten all the good you’ve done.” He picked up some more books to put away. “And I know that  _you_  haven’t, either.”

**“… You sound so sure about that.”**

Dictatious chuckled. “It’s honestly quite simple.” Despite his lack of clear sight, the Conundrum managed to land direct eye contact with Angor for just a second. And, while he could no longer read the books in his hands, this enigma of a killer was like an open book to Dictatious this night. “If you  _really_  have forsaken that old part of you, then you wouldn’t be trying so hard to help the Trollhunters now.”

Eye darting back to Dictatious, Angor (again) said nothing, just stared.

Dictatious was… technically  _right_. Angor  _has_  been actively trying to atone for his wrongdoings. Whether he was doing that task  _well_  or not was another story, but…

He reopened the records of his good accomplishments.  **“… So it still… _means_  something, is what you’re saying.”** He said quietly, as if trying to convince himself those words were true.

“ _Obviously_  it still means something.” Dictatious then snickered, going back to putting the books on their shelves. “I mean, only an  _idiot_ would ignore such plain facts.”

Angor Rot stared blankly at him, saying nothing.

In realization of how that sounded, Dic’s eyes went wide and he turned back around, quickly correcting himself, “Not that  _you’re_  an idiot!”

 **“Obviously,”** Angor replied, a small smirk on his face,  **“consolation isn’t a _strength_  of yours.” **Thankfully, Dictatious could make out a little touch of mirth in his voice.

“Ha… Not particularly, no…” Dictatious admitted with a tentative smile of his own.

While he may not have realized it, Dictatious actually had managed to make this troll feel just a  _little_  bit better. That gesture on his part, Angor could appreciate.

Clearing his throat, Dictatious changed the subject. “So, erhm, how long have we been down here, even?”

 **“Mm. Long enough, I’m sure. Night has likely long fallen by now.”**  Angor mused.  **“Shall we head back?”**

 

 

The night, no moon to speak of, was near completely dark. If not for the stars and flickering lights of the streets, Arcadia would be swept under a blanket of blackness.

It would be easy to miss the figure moving in the night, a lumbering mass of shadows that one might mistake for a creeper of the night, if not for that giveaway human shape. The being emerged from his car, which had been tactfully concealed behind a plethora of trees.

Something rattled in the tall man’s hand, the batteries of a flashlight as he fumbled to get the device out of his coat.

One bright beam of light broke the darkness, landing on a tall, landmark sign that read ‘Welcome to Arcadia Oaks!’ in the boldest, reddest letters he could see.

“Finally…” Rasped his husky voice, a hopeful grin on his cracked lips. “I’m finally here-“

He cut his own monologue off with a screech when a curious and irritated goblin bolted out from behind the sign to flee from the light. Unfortunately for it, that just caused the man to chuck his flashlight at the thing as hard as he could, splattering the creature in an instant.

“… Ew.”

His grin turned to a look of disgust as he picked up the now green-splattered flashlight, shaking it off of goblin remains.

His sourness was short-lived, and an upbeat smile came back when he took one more look at the sign into Arcadia.

Hopping back into his car, he started up the engine, though it took a few sputtering tries. Slow and quiet, the little black vehicle crawled its way into Arcadia’s borders.

 

 

**_(psst, my proofreader did a comic of the stuart scene, go check it out)_ **

<https://gold-kobold.tumblr.com/post/183176961993/youre-hilarious-stu-scene-from-chapter-6-of>


	7. A Bold Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **As if our Trollhunter didn’t have enough on his plate, he and his mother get one hell of a surprise visit. Strickler is very displeased.**

Their camera was acting up. The one deep in the woods.

It should’ve been as simple as that. Go into the woods, check on the equipment, come back. Easy.

Jim should have been in and out with no complications.

That’s not what happened, though.

The Trollhunter had gone alone. Why wouldn’t he? It seemed like nothing more than a battery issue, maybe also having been jostled by some wildlife, because their line of sight from the cam seemed off judging by the livestream feed. So, readjust the camera, replace the battery for good measure, head on back home.

He never expected that, on his way there, he’d run into a troll.

Not  _this_  troll.

 

He’d almost reached the Killahead Bridge portal spot, where their camera lay.

All was relatively quiet. Birds sung softly in the trees, leaves dappling through the light, cool breeze that swept past. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Until Jim heard a noise. A thump, far louder than what could be caused by any wildlife around here. Jim jumped, his amulet responding to him and donning his armour. Sword in hand, the Trollhunter turned to face the source of the noise.

The creature, a shadow in the trees, Jim struggled to see.

He could make out large, distinct horns, and a spiky hide… the colour blue, and a glint from the golden metal that was its right arm.

Jim’s eyes went wide as could be.

Two yellow glinting eyes returned his stare.

Softly, the Trollhunter managed to find his voice.

“…  _Draal_ …?”

Like smoke slipping out of his grasp, Draal ran from Jim.

 _“Wait!”_  Jim bolted after him.

His half-troll body is so fast. Fast enough, he’d have thought, to keep up with a troll like this.

But every time he felt like he was getting close to that rolling blue spikeball, Draal slipped away, staying just out of reach.

What was only a short chase felt agonizingly long.

Jim had to catch up, he had to figure out what was going on, he  _had_ to-

-look where he was going.

Not paying any attention to the trees around him, Jim ended up tripping over upturned roots, tumbling down to the dirt. He picked himself up faster than he ever thought he could, but by the time he looked up again, Draal was gone.

No sign of him. No sound to speak of. Just… vanished.

Was he dreaming…?

No… No, he’s sure he’s awake…

Something’s wrong, something’s so very wrong, and Jim was helpless as to finding out what.

It took Jim ages of confused and emotional stumbling around before he eventually found himself at the camera location. The area was trampled, a few trees in the clearing bowled over, and he could guess that Draal must’ve been through here.

With that realization, Jim desperately rushed to find their camera. When he eventually found it, his heart plummeted upon seeing that it was cracked,  Not only cracked, but completely crushed on one side. If it  _was_  Draal’s barge through here that did this, Jim was shocked the camera was even still in one piece.

About frustrated to tears, Jim scooped up the pieces to see if any of it was salvageable. But it didn’t seem so.

Then, oh then, he remembered. It had been  _livestreaming_  to Toby’s  _laptop_.

 _Obviously_.

Without wasting a second, he shot like a bullet back to the Domzalski household, broken camera in hand.

 

Toby and Claire watched the salt-pepper screen in shock, gape-mouthed.

“Was that really…?” Claire started to whisper.

“No… Naw, it  _couldn’t’ve_  been…” Toby tried at a reply, “I-I mean, it went by  _really_  fast… c-could’ve been anything, right…?”

“Any fast, rolling, bright blue creature?”

They both stared at each other, silent. Until Jim slammed the door open, and they both jumped and turned their attention to him.

“ _Please_  tell me that footage is saved.” He said breathlessly.

 

~

 

“Wait, you’re saying that Usurna  _actually_  thought that would  _work_?”

 **“I had told both her and Gunmar that it wouldn’t.”**  Angor said with a shrug.  **“But no, why listen to the insight of someone who’s actually observed his feelings towards the human first-hand?”**

Dictatious scoffed. “Honestly. What kind of an amateur move is that? Even  _I_  can see Strickler wouldn’t fall for  _that_.” Angor hummed in agreement as the Conundrum continued. “I mean, what even was the point of trying such flimsy trickery if they had the  _real_  Barbara Lake? Obviously that was enough to get him to activate the staff anyways. I swear, the second I leave, it’s like they all forget how to think!”

 **“She did seem very… _enthusiastic_  in her role to try and fool the Changeling.”** Angor mused, a half-smirk on his face. ****

Dictatious snorted with laughter at the insinuation. “Oh really? Do tell.”

They continued roasting the dead queen as they wandered through town, but when Angor Rot went dead silent and completely stopped in his tracks, Dictatious had to pause too. “… Angor?”

The assassin didn’t respond at all. His attention was completely taken by a human he caught sight of across the street. The human was walking along with a bouquet of flowers, not even noticing the two trolls. It was nobody Angor or Dictatious have ever spoken to or been approached by. But Angor  _recognized_  him.

It couldn’t be. He must be mistaken… humans can look very similar to each other, after all, it  _can’t_  be who he thought it was, could it?

But now the human noticed them. And before speedily walking away from the trolls, when his head turned their way to give them a weird look, Angor Rot was certain.

 **“… I need to speak with the Trollhunter immediately.”** Angor said. He quickly looked around, scouting for a shady spot to temporarily place Dictatious while he was gone, and spotted a bench underneath the shelter of a corner store’s roof, nearby where some construction was taking place to fix yet some more damages from the Eternal Night. Taking Dictatious to the bench and sitting him there, he ordered,  **“Do not move. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”**

“… Uhm.” Dictatious frowned, confused and concerned, but before he could even begin to ask for elaboration, Angor Rot was already off. Ear twitching slightly, Dictatious raised an eyebrow as he watched the blur disappear from his very short line of vision. “… Alright…” He muttered to himself.

 

 

They must’ve watched the video a hundred times over by now. And now with Jim’s account of what he saw in the woods, there was no doubt in any of their minds.  _Something_  was out there, and it looked  _exactly_  like their fallen friend. But they knew better than to be hopeful.

The trio had been on their way to Stuart’s Electronics to try and salvage from the camera that was damaged, still chattering the entire way there. Obviously distracted, none of them noticed when Angor Rot eventually found them.

He could tell they were all distracted and frantic about something, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get Jim’s attention.  **“Trollhunter?”**

“I mean, could it be a weird ghost spirit thing?” Toby suggested, none of the kids having noticed the new arrival.

“Well,  _maybe_ , but I don’t think so…” Jim replied, frowning.

“Yeah, don’t the troll spirits look a lot less  _solid_?” Claire pointed out.

**“Trollhunter.”**

“Besides, if it  _was_  the real deal, why would he run from Jim?”

“Maybe he didn’t recognize him! He HAS turned into a troll and all!”

“I don’t think that’s the case, Tobes…”

**_“Trollhunter.”_ **

“Well okay, what  _else_  could it be? Not more freaky witch magic…?”

“I  _really_  hope not…”

Angor Rot sighed in mild annoyance… Oh, to The Darklands with it.

**_“JIM.”_ **

The Trollhunter jumped at the sudden raised voice directed at him, he and his friends finally taking notice of Angor Rot behind them. “Oh, uh…” He stammered, caught off guard by this troll actually using his  _name_  for once. “Sorry, I-I didn’t see you there… What’s up, Angor?”

 **“I regret to disturb you when you are obviously busy,”**  Angor Rot went on,  **“but I thought it may interest you to know that your _father_  is encroaching upon your territory.”**

Toby and Claire’s expressions both jolted into ones of shock, but that was nothing compared to Jim’s. An explosion of different emotions shot through the Trollhunter in an instant, most prominent that Angor could see in his eyes being, shock, confusion… and outrage.

A sinister growl pushed through his fangs, fists clenching, and Jim couldn’t hold back the viciousness in his voice if he’d tried.

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

 

 

Finding enough people willing to take care of the remaining Familiar children had been a taxing duty, but Strickler and Barbara were up to the task. While there hadn’t been any problems  _yet,_  everyone knew that the Lake household had also been a place where shadow portals had once been conjured, and nobody wants to take chances of anything disastrous happening, especially with so many infants in the house. Luckily, the people of Arcadia were doing their part to help out.

Barbara had just gotten off the phone with another new volunteer when she heard the doorbell ring. Strange… the usual company she gets know they can just walk in, and she had nobody scheduled to meet today.

Just as any normal person would do, she went to the door to answer it. But she never could’ve emotionally prepared herself for the moments to follow.

When she opened the door, she froze. More emotions overtook her in that moment even than when she saw Angor Rot,  _a troll that nearly killed her and her son, needless to say,_  on her porch no less than three months ago. With great effort, she eventually spoke, her voice soft from shock.

“J… _James…?”_

It was him, alright. He wore clothes poorly suited for the warm weather, a gruff duffel coat hanging over long raggedy jeans. Umber brown hair draped over his wolfish face, dark eyebrows arching over even darker eyes, like that of a hawk’s gaze. Eyes which lit up with joy upon seeing her. “Barb!” He exclaimed, his thick, deep voice chiming full of ecstasy. “You haven’t aged a day!”

Barbara was at a complete loss of words. Whatever attempt at a sentence she tried to speak was lost within many layers of anger and confusion.

“I know it’s been a long time…” James went on upon seeing the look on her face. “I-“

It was the second James took a step towards her as he spoke that Barbara whipped out her pepper spray, spritzing it directly into his face without a moment’s hesitation. The man yelled out in pain, near tripping down the porch stairs as he staggered backwards.

 _“Oh god, why-?!”_  He shouted, dropping the flowers he’d brought and rubbing at his stinging eyes. “What

the hell, Barb?!”

 _“What the hell, James?!”_  She shouted back in a rage.  _“What the HELL do you think you’re doing here?!”_

“Is it a  _crime_  to see my  _family_?!” James uttered out, irritated, and squinting trying to open his eyes even a little.

_“IT’S BEEN TEN YEARS, YOU SON OF A-!!”_

“Barbara!” Having heard the enraged screeching of his partner,  _very_ uncharacteristic for her, Strickler had rushed downstairs as soon as he could. “Are you alright?!”

Barbara was shaking with rage, looking about ready to punch their unexpected visitor’s lights out. Strickler was by her side in a split second – he looked the man over, and while it took him a moment, he did recognize who it was from photos. His eyes narrowed, a hostile growl rumbling in his throat, and one of his wings moved behind Barbara with a slight curl around her shoulder.

When James’s vision finally cleared, he took one look at the Changeling and cursed in alarm, jumping back further.  _“Jesus, what the fuck is that—"_

“Oh, he should be the LEAST of your worries right now!” Barbara snapped, aiming the pepper spray at him again.

James saw that and immediately waved his arms up in front of him as a meager defense, shouting “ _Nononodon’tdothatagain—!“_

But before she thought to spray him again, she took pause, both her and Strickler’s expressions softening with concern as their attention was taken by something behind James. The man turned around to see what had them stopped, and saw a face he knew he could recognize, despite how much it had changed.

His son stood across the yard, along with that strange troll he saw staring at him earlier in town… but his focus wasn’t with that one right now. His son’s blue eyes, like Barbara’s, were filled with confused anger. His eyes, one feature of his face that stayed the same past his transformation. Despite the child obviously being upset, his father still smiled at the sight of him. “Jamie…!” He started to say, but Jim snarled a noise so threatening, it shut his father up instantly.

“It’s  _Jim_.”

Tense silence overtook the yard. The viciousness in his child’s voice caused James the  _slightest_  moment of hesitation. He’d even winced at the snarl.

Like an absolute fool, James attempted to ‘lighten the mood’, chuckling nervously, “H-Hey now, is that

any way to speak to your old man?”

Again, he made the grave mistake of stepping towards his kin, only to be met with bad reactions all around. He could hear the Changeling behind him snarl again, Barbara making an indiscernible noise of anger alongside him, pepper spray rattling in her clenched grip, Jim stepped back, his amulet reacting to his emotional distress and he was donned with armour in an instant. Even the one-eyed troll lingering behind his son pulled out a knife in reaction to his attempted advance towards Jim. At all of this, James went completely still.

Claire and Toby had finally caught up to Angor Rot and Jim by now, witnessing this uneasy sight. Slowly, the both of them made their way to Jim’s side to be in support of him, eying his father suspiciously, and neither of them saying a thing.

Jim’s hardened gaze of unadulterated hatred was fixed to his scumbag of a father, the only thoughts going through his head about how he’d abandoned them, the  _pain_  he put his mother through, the pain he put  _him_  through. His eyes narrowed. “What kind of nerve do you have to show your face around here again?”

The sight and sound of his furious son was a discouraging but not surprising one. James cleared his throat to find his voice again. When he spoke next, it was with a more earnest purpose. “I… I know I’ve wronged you.” He said lowly, then looked back at Barbara as well. “ _Both_  of you. I haven’t been the best husband…” Eyes back to Jim. “…or father… I  _never_  should have left you in the first place.”

Jim glared on with less and less patience, baring threatening fangs. “Then why  _did_  you?!”

James bit his tongue, and looked away. “… I was selfish. Foolish. I left behind an… an  _amazing_  wife and child… all because I was tempted by temporary pleasure-“ His son growled, and he could  _feel_ Barbara glaring daggers into the back of his head. He winced again, then sighed. “Jim, when I saw you on the news, fighting those… those  _monsters,_  I…” He shook his head.

Taking his father’s words with a grain of salt, Jim scoffed under his breath. Sure, there were recordings of the Eternal Night that ended up getting publicated, how could there  _not_  be? But he’d be willing to bet this ass wouldn’t have even  _recognized_  Jim had his name not  _also_  been made known. Still, he begrudgingly listened as his father droned on.

“You may not believe me…” James said, taking note of his son’s skeptical look, “… but I  _mean_  it when I say I was  _terrified_.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed again when he caught the flicker of shame that passed his father’s expression as he spoke. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“When I saw those videos, and I realized my son could’ve  _died_ , and I never even…” He took a shaking breath in. “… and I’d never even had the chance to know who he came to  _be_ , I…” Shaking his head with another look of shame written all over him, “I just… I knew I had to come back, at least make an  _effort_  to know the man you’ve grown to be… even if you want nothing to do with me. I  _had_  to at least  _try_.”

Everyone was quiet again. All eyes were on Jim, save for Strickler’s and Angor Rot’s, those two keeping a firm, suspicious stare on James.

The air itself felt heavy in his lungs when Jim slowly inhaled, holding the breath in as if it was something his father could steal from him. He exhaled just as slow, and met his father’s eyes with an iced stare of his own. “ _Stay away from my mom_.” He growled. “If I ever want to talk to your sorry self,  _I’ll_  call  _you_.”

More silence along with tense stares. James pursed his lips, nodding very slightly. “Well, I’ll… I’ll be at the Parkside Inn for a while, so you know where to find me. You know, if you change your mind?” He offered a hesitant smile.

Jim’s stone-cold expression didn’t change. He just nodded back in the hopes it would get his father to hurry up and get out of here already. It felt to everyone like James was moving in slow motion as he finally left the property, but at least he knew better than to hang around when obviously dangerous individuals are giving him death glares.

When he’d gone, Toby spoke up first, immediately checking in on Jim. “You okay, Jimbo?”

Sighing, Jim nodded his head. The armour that had covered him faded away when he felt Claire’s hand on his shoulder, too. He looked to his mother with concern, to see that she was giving him a similar worried look. The kids walked over to the porch, Angor Rot following a little further behind, and Barbara stepped outside to meet them, Strickler following with his wing still around her and casting glances across the street where James had gone.

“Are  _you_  okay?” Jim asked her.

She sighed under her breath, but nodded, giving Jim a reassuring smile and brushing some hair out of his face. “I’m sorry he put you in that position, honey.” Barbara said, a small level of tenseness still in her voice due to the encounter.

Jim awkwardly smiled back. “Maybe I didn’t have the  _best_  reaction to that… ‘family reunion’, but…”

“You handled yourself well, Young Atlas.” Strickler said in benign disagreement. His yellow eyes still peered down the street every now and then. “You laid out your boundaries with clarity. Hopefully he’ll be smart enough to  _respect_  them.”

Barbara was quick to nod in agreement. “And if he  _ever_  tries to approach you unwelcomed again-“

“Oh, don’t you worry, Dr. L…” Toby spoke up to assure her, patting his friend on the back, “He’s got  _loads_  of backup should Mr. Scuzzbag McSleazeball ever try and cross any lines.”

“You can say  _that_  again.” Claire agreed, all for supporting Jim and honestly liking the sounds of getting a chance to deck that guy in the face should he ever do anything unacceptable. “I’ve only seen him for, like, two minutes, and he  _already_  bugs me.”

Strickler and Barbara both chuckled in amusement of the children’s enthusiasm. Jim smiled too, warmed by his friends’ support. “Thanks, you guys…” He said, “If… If you don’t mind, I think I need to stay here for a bit. Can you guys get that camera to the shop?”

“Absolutely!” Claire said, pecking him on the cheek. “You can count on us.”

“I know I can.” Jim said, smiling warmly at her.

Toby took a hold of the broken camera, ready to head on back to Stuart’s, but he paused when he saw the dropped bouquet of flowers from James, then smirked at Barbara. “Hey Dr. L, you keeping these?”

“Oh, definitely not.” Barbara replied, welcoming Toby to them.

The redheaded child grinned wider, picked up the flowers and reared his arm back, yelling, “YEET!” as he threw them as far as he could into the yard. The outcome he hadn’t forseen was the one where the bouquet came undone midair and scattered flowers everywhere, many landing on an unimpressed assassin that had stood nearby.

“… Oops.” Toby cracked a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Angor.”

Angor Rot just rolled his eye, brushing the flowers off of himself.  **“It’s alright, whelp…”**

When Toby and Claire were ready to go again, they said one last goodbye to everyone, and dutifully trotted away to head back into town. Angor Rot watched Jim out of the corner of his eye, and saw a noticeable shift in demeanor as the Trollhunter shakily sighed, his shoulders slumping.

He didn’t fully understand all the history and specifics of what happened with this family, but he could see as plainly as anyone else that the father’s presence brought  _everyone_  intense discomfort. After watching Toby and Claire head off, he glanced at Jim once more, and double-checked,  **“Are you _sure_  you’re alright, Hunter?”**

“I’m okay. Just a… a stressful day so far…” Jim assured the assassin, awkward grin still on his face, though it softened slightly with gratitude. He turned to go inside, but before he did, he made sure to say, “Thanks for letting me know he was slinking around here. I appreciate your help.”

Angor Rot responded to the thanks with a simple nod, and, after having reasoned the Trollhunter would be okay, he went off to get back to Dictatious. Jim was in good hands, anyway.

 

~

 

Well… there are worse places to be stuck.

Dictatious sat quietly outside the corner store, eyes closed as he listened to all the sounds around him. The air was crisp and warm, carrying the sounds of heavy machinery from the construction site nearby, the occasional honking car horn blaring over it. It all eventually blurred into a dull mesh of white noise in the background.

… Wait.

His ear flicked upwards, capturing whispers nearby. Eyes opening, he tried to look around through squinted, foggy eyes. Then, one of the voices spoke louder.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

The noise was coming not far from where he sat, two blurry splotches in his vision coming gradually closer, and that voice sounded… annoyingly familiar.

The second one spoke up in response to his confused look.

“Yeah! We’re talking to you, ugly!”

… Ahh, there’s no mistaking those voices dripping with teenage snark. It’s those snide boys that had been caught following them around more than once.

Wonderful. What bushigal have they come up with today?

"The weather’s real nice today, innit?” The first boy said, nudging his friend and casting cocky looks Dictatious’s way as if he had concocted some endless supply of ‘savage’ quips in preparation for this moment. “You should come on over and join us! Bet you’d look a lot better in the  _sunlight_.”

“Clever.” Dictatious said with the faintest of smirks. “Did you come up with that all by yourself? It  _really_  shows.”

Oh, the fleshbag didn’t take kindly to his sarcasm. “Ohh sure, 'it really shows’ says the  _blind guy_.” Smirking back, he said, “Say, were you  _born_  that ugly or did it come from walking into so many walls?” He and his friend high-fived.

“Jest all you want, but you actually make me  _thankful_  that I’m blind.” The unfazed Dictatious replied, his grin widening. “At least this way, I don’t have the awful misfortune of having to see your  _face_.”

Brody had to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the snort of laughter he let out at that. Kyle shot him a glare, smacking him upside the head before glaring again at Dictatious. “You think you’re soooo funny, don’t you!”

“Well, funnier than  _you_ , at least.” Then Dictatious laughed. “But that’s not a very  _difficult_  feat to accomplish, now is it?”

Now the guy was pissed. Unfortunately, anger combined with teenage troublemaking and unpredictability can yield fiendish results sometimes. The boy’s eyes landed on a pile of rubble left from the nearby construction. He nudged his friend and gestured to it. Brody nodded in understanding with a mischievous grin of his own. He untied the hoodie from around his waist, grabbing armfuls of the rubble and using the fabric to carry it. Meanwhile, Kyle kept trying (and failing) to heckle Dictatious.

“You all should just crawl back to the sad little holes you came from!” He snapped hatefully as his friend was returning to his side. “Letting you monsters up here was a  _big_  mistake!”

“You know, if you’re interested in talking about big mistakes,” Dictatious chuckled, not missing a single beat, “you should consult your  _parents_.”

That was a snapping point. *“Why you little-!”* He immediately reached over to grab a chunk of broken concrete, a malicious glint in his eye as he looked back at the troll he knew was stuck under the awning’s shade, with nowhere to go. “Eat rock, jackass!” He exclaimed, lobbing the concrete at Dictatious.

At least the boy was stupid enough to give a verbal warning. Dictatious shot an arm up just in time to shield his face. Still not discouraged from making sneering comments though, as he made clear in the seconds that followed. “And here I was hoping for a battle of  _wits_ , but you appear to be  _unarmed_  in that regard-” He barely got the insult out before getting hit with more cement, both the fleshbags throwing it now. Couldn’t help but chuckle again despite it.  _So_  easy to get under their skin.

“Not such a smartass now, are you?” The second boy jeered, picking up more rubble as his friend kept throwing. “This’ll teach you how to respect your superiors!”

Ha. Were they seriously referring to  _themselves?_

Clearly not 'learning the lesson’, Dictatious didn’t falter even slightly with the amount of sass he was pumping out. “Now now, calm down…” He purred patronizingly, “Why don’t you take a deep breath… and hold it for about an hour?”

“Oh,  _shut up already!”_  This time, the teen threw a big enough chunk with enough force to actually knock the troll off his bench with a well-aimed strike at his head.

The teen laughed cruelly at the sharp yelp of pain he finally got out of this troll. He was about to throw another chunk of concrete, but his friend quickly stopped him, eyes staring wide across the street.

“Shit shit shit, the scary one’s coming back!” He frantically babbled, yanking on his friend’s arm.

Well, the sight of Angor Rot eyeing them from the crosswalk as he returned from Jim’s place was more than enough to scare the two boys off. They retreated far enough so they weren’t in knife-throwing range, then went back to laughing about their actions.

Angor Rot raised an eyebrow skeptically as he watched them in the distance. When he found himself back at Dictatious’s side, the first thing he noticed was all the broken pieces of concrete on the ground by the bench, then the good few pelt marks they had left on Dictatious. Knowing enough about those stupid fleshbags and about Dictatious’s personality by now to understand what this meant, he gave the smaller troll a dry stare.  **“Can you not be left alone for ten minutes without getting into trouble?”**  He rumbled, leaning down to help Dictatious up.

“Hey,  _they_  started it!” Dictatious pointed out, brushing himself of as he stood. With a smirk, he added, “Besides, who could pass up an opportunity to give two such dolts a little humbling?” He snickered to himself, then winced slightly, rubbing part of his head where the rubble had hit him. “Though, for fleshbags, they have pretty good throwing arms…” He admitted sourly under his breath. Still worth it though.

Angor Rot sighed and rolled his eye.

The arrogant laughter of those two boys, Angor could still hear as he and Dictatious started to make their way back to Toby’s house.  _So_ arrogant about what they did.

It grated on his nerves. Only  _cowards_  prey on those who can’t fight back.

He stared in their direction, slowing his pace. He saw the other piles of rubble around the two boys, the wet concrete laid to dry nearby, how they roughhoused with each other like the rowdy children they were…

They think that they can do whatever they want to someone, to hurt someone under Angor’s watch when he’s not there? They think they are free of consequence if they simply keep their distance from him?

Under his breath, ever so softly, Angor mumbled a foreign incantation.

“Did you say something?” Dictatious asked, ears perking at the noise.

Angor didn’t reply right away, preoccupied with the sight of the first boy immediately tripping over rubble and falling directly into the wet cement. The second boy yelped something profane, going over to help, only to fall in too.

Angor’s attention returned to guiding Dictatious, the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth.  **“No.”**  He replied.  **“Nothing important.”**

_Enjoy your seven days of bad luck, fleshbag brats._

 

~

 

Cooking helps Jim relax. Right now, he didn’t care that he couldn’t eat the food himself.

He just needed a distraction.  _Any_  distraction.

Barbara sat quietly in the dining room, watching her son with increasing concern. When Strickler came back down from settling the Familiars again, he looked into the kitchen, where the distressed Young Atlas kept speedily cooking without noticing him at all, with a frown as he went to sit by Barbara.

“He’s been like that the whole time?” Strickler asked quietly, to which Barbara gave a slow nod. The Changeling glanced to Jim again with more concern. He loudly cleared his throat, finally catching Jim’s attention. “Young Atlas… perhaps you should come sit down.”

His offer was met with a hesitant, maybe even slightly nervous chuckle. “No can do, Strickler, I’ve got stuff on the stove that can’t be left unattended-“

“Jim.”

The teen stilled, biting his tongue. Strickler had stood up again, entered the kitchen and, keeping an eye on the trembling Jim, turned off the stovetops.

“Come sit down.” Strickler said again, his tone sympathetic, but insistent.

With a resigned sigh, Jim followed Strickler back to the dining room table and sat with them. It was an uncomfortably long moment of silence before anyone spoke next.

“… I don’t know James like you both do, obviously.” Strickler eventually spoke up, talking softly and carefully. “I know he abandoned you. But he’s here in Arcadia right now. That can’t just be ignored. So…” Looking between Barbara and Jim, “what do you two want to do?”

Truth be told, Strickler’s first thought when he saw James on that porch was  _bloody_   _murder_. Alas, that kind of conflict resolution would not be welcomed here… unfortunately.

Jim didn’t really say anything, just tiredly stared. Barbara shifted in her chair, conflicted, but mainly focused on her son. She had been the next to speak.

“Jim…?” Her soft voice tried to get his attention. “What do  _you_  want?”

It took everything within Jim to hold himself together. He stiffly shrugged, shaky voice muttering, “One drama-free week would be great.”

His parental figures exchanged worried looks. Jim sighed, burying his face in his hands.

He’d never really  _known_  his father. He’d resented his father for leaving him and his mother behind all those years ago. James Lake Sr. had abandoned the responsibility of a child, of a  _family_. They’d never heard a single thing from him for over a  _decade_. He was like a ghost, hardly a memory to Jim.

Now he’s here. Right in Arcadia.

And, according to him, he came back trying to make amends. Because his son came close to death.  _That’s_  what it took to drag him back here. Would he leave again when he got bored of being ignored? If he figures Jim’s life isn’t in immediate danger anymore?

Was this the  _only_  chance Jim was ever going to get to talk to the father he hates, but never truly knew? How was he  _supposed to feel_ about any of this?!  _And why did his damned father choose the worst possible time to show up?!_

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Jim realized his mother had moved to a seat closer to him. She didn’t say anything, just rubbed his shoulder as an act of comfort. Another sigh left Jim’s chest, and he placed a hand on his mother’s. “I don’t… I don’t  _know_  what I want to do…” He admitted, voice softer than he’d ever intend. “It’s like… I’ve never wanted  _anything_  to do with him, but I-I have  _questions_ , I want to know if he’s even  _changed_  or if he’s still—” Jim bit his tongue, and a heavy sigh fell from him. “Why did he only care enough to come back  _now_ …? If he really cared, wouldn’t he have-?” Again, Jim cut himself off with a sigh, elbows on the table to prop his head up, face in his hands. “I just don’t know.” He mumbled.

Strickler and Barbara shared a look of worry.

“… Well… whatever you choose to do, Jim…” Barbara spoke, rubbing his shoulder, “We’ll support the decision.”

Jim’s lips pursed, then loosened into a hesitant but grateful smile as he lifted his head to look at them. “Thank you…”

They both returned the smile. Then, the noise of a Familiar’s crying sounded off from upstairs. Strickler started to get up, but Jim beat him to it.

“I got it,” Jim said, walking towards the stairs, “Be back in a flash.”

He was up the stairs and out of sight immediately.

Strickler slowly sat back down, looking again to Barbara. “… You’re sure about all this?”

She sighed softly, looking away. “I’m not going to stand in the way of his first opportunity to know his father.” Her gaze hardened, and she added, “I just don’t want him to be hurt again…”

Her hands were taken into Strickler’s, and she returned her stare to him.

“He’s braved through  _unimaginable_  hardships already.” Strickler pointed out, rubbing his thumb along the back of Barbara’s hand. “Whatever happens with James, as long as Jim has his friends and family, he’ll be okay.”

Barbara was quiet, unspeaking for a while as she took comfort in the gentle touch, but she did eventually smile at him. “I know… you’re right.” She admitted. “I just… worry.”

“As most mothers do.” Strickler replied with a small smile in return.

The two of them shared in a quiet laugh. “I guess you’re right again…” Barbara agreed.

The pair’s attention turned to the stairs as Jim came back down them,

“The time bombs have been diffused… for now.” The teen joked, getting another laugh out of Barbara and Strickler. “So… who wants omelettes?”

“Breakfast for dinner?” Strickler raised a brow, smirk still on his face.

“I like to live dangerously.” Jim smirked back, going back into the kitchen to continue his cooking that had been halted.

It seems the talk helped a little, as Jim’s clearly relaxed a bit now. He still had a lot to consider… but he’d figure it out. He always did eventually. He wouldn’t let his father monopolize his thoughts, not in the heat of everything else that Jim needed to stay strong for.

 

And he needed to stay strong when the day came for who he was planning on talking to next.

 

~

 

Not a word was said between the Trollhunter and Changeling as Jim pulled up the footage he’d told her about.

Nomura stayed deathly silent the whole time she was shown the blurry video of what looked to be her fallen mate, Draal.

It was never Jim’s intention to trouble her. But he knew he wouldn’t feel right not telling her about what he saw in the woods, and when she insisted on seeing the video… well, who was he to deny her that?

“The camera got roughed up pretty bad…” Jim mumbled as the video cut off, “… but Tobes and I have made at least ten backups of this by now, and… and we’re hoping the electronics shop can salvage the actual tape, and…”

He trailed off when Nomura stood from the couch. “… Thank you for showing me this, little Gynt.” She said. Her voice was soft, low, but incredibly tense. It was an unusual combination for her.

Jim only nodded, and watched quietly as she headed for the door.

Before she left, she took one last look at him and said, “I’ll help you figure this out however I can. Whoever it is that’s messing with us now, Morgana or  _otherwise_ …” Her eyes narrowed, and she looked away, walking out the door. “… they’ll be sorry.”

 

~

 

Perhaps ‘Goblet of Fire’ wasn’t the happiest choice of movies as a de-stressor. But they’d already gotten their troll friends watching the Harry Potter movies, so why not pick up where they left off?

Toby and Claire teamed up to round everyone up together. It took a while for them to convince Jim, but he was the one who needed another break the most. After all, he can’t just keep trying to  _cook_  his problems away.

And it’s not like ‘Goblet of Fire’ didn’t have its fair share of funny moments. The kids had been laughing all the while Harry and Ron struggled to get dates for the Yule Ball, Blinky ridiculing all the student’s manners of looking for partners the whole time. Dictatious and Aaarrrgghh just quietly listened, amused by the rantings, and Angor Rot had been squinting at the screen in confusion for a while now, trying to make sense these strange fleshbag antics.

 **“I don’t understand these flimsy, convoluted mating rituals…”** He eventually muttered, the kids laughing lightheartedly in response.

“Well, some people  _do_  make it harder than it needs to be,” Toby snickered, shooting a teasing glance at Claire and Jim, to which both of them stuck their tongues out at him.

 **“But why are they trying so hard with humans they barely _know_?”**  Angor said, puzzled.  **“What is so important about this event that they’d rush choosing a _mate_  of all things? They’ll  _never_  find a suitable companion that way, let alone one with mutual interest.”**

“Well, I think in this case, it’s more about the status of the event than the person they’re going with.” Claire pointed out, still grinning even when Angor gave her the most confused look ever.

 **“That is ridiculous.”** His confused stare became directed over at the couch where Dictatious sat, and he went on,  **“I thought you said humans went on these ‘dates’ to _relax_.”**

“Hm, well, most of the time.” Dictatious chuckled, shrugging and giving his tutor an unbothered smirk. “It’s hard to tell with fleshbags sometimes.”

Angor scoffed.  **“These courtship customs are _awful._ ”**

“Well, how do trolls indicate interest, then?” Claire then asked, chuckling.

Angor paused for a second to think about that.  **“Well… admittedly, it’s been a long time since such things mattered to me. Customs may have changed by now, but in the past, when a troll had developed interest in another, the most straightforward way to demonstrate that interest was through nipping.”**

“Ah yes,” Blinky confirmed. “It’s a rather outdated tactic nowadays, but not  _entirely_  unused.”

Jim’s eyebrows raised up. “Like, legit  _biting_  people?”

“No. Just nip.” Aaarrrgghh said with clear distinction.

When Blinky could see the kids seeming confused on what they considered the difference to be, the Conundrum explained further. “Trolls used to commonly use that motion as a display of trustworthiness as well as romantic interest. The more sensitive the spot being nipped, the more intimate the gesture. If the courter  _hurts_ the one they’re attempting to court, it’s taken as them being untrustworthy with the other’s wellbeing, and as such were far less likely to be reciprocated… Or, if there’s simply a lack of interest on the other’s part, they’re at least then given the opportunity to make that clear.”

“I…  _guess_  that makes sense…” Jim halfheartedly conceded, one brow raised in skepticism. “Still weird though.”

 **“At least it is more direct than labyrinthine methods _these_ fleshbags are using…” **Again Angor squinted at the screen.  **“Did somebody mention using ‘ _love potion’?_ ”**

“Yeeeaaah, gotta admit that one’s a little creepy.” Toby awkwardly laughed, scratching his head. “The sixth movie is  _definitely_  going to weird you guys out.”

That put a concerned look on the face of every troll in the room, but the kids couldn’t help breaking down into a fit of giggles again at their confusion, but still managed to utter out reassurances that things wouldn’t get  _too_  weird – no weirder than already, anyway.

Well… At least the children seemed  _happy_.

Not that Angor’s entirely sure why that’s started to matter to him.

But still… he had to admit he was starting to see the appeal of these… ‘group pastimes’. Even if he didn’t always have lasting energy for it or fully understand what the fleshbags were on about…

Eventually his wandering eye fell to Jim. The boy had seemed off since his father arrived in Arcadia, just slightly. Enough for one to notice the mental shift. But here, amidst his closest friends, he seemed to be at ease again.

Hopefully he appreciates that peace of mind for the short time it’ll last.

 

 

_**(chapter's done, but HEY LOOK WHAT MY PROOFREADER DID)** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so because i'm a fool and can't estimate chapter numbers i've decided i'm not gonne guess how many chapters this will be anymore and we'll just see how long this goes lol

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is appreciated! This story is all outlined already, I just need to finish the chapters now. :)


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